Freedom in Falling

by J. Emery

  He was saved from dropping any deeper into that ridiculous metaphor by West's next question. "What did you major in?"

  It was probably rude to laugh in his face, but Noah was too tired to stop the guffaw that popped out of his mouth. He didn't stop laughing until his stomach hurt. Tears prickled his eyes. "Oh, sweetheart. I barely made it a year in college. Art school is fucking expensive and I've got no other marketable skills aside from my fabulous looks. I had a good time while it lasted. Met some people. Margot especially. She's amazing. I'll introduce you sometime. A lot of the rest of them were fucking dicks though. I spent half the time trying not to punch them in their pretentious little trustfunded faces. You're not special for oversaturating a few photos, Alton. Good riddance. I can be annoyed by people and hopelessly in debt on my own."

  "Fabulous looks?"

  "Of course that's the part you have a problem with." He shook his head. "I said what I said. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

  "You're incredibly full of yourself." That smile played over his lips again. Noah wanted to capture it in a jar like fireflies.

  "Damn straight. I worked hard to get this way. Credit where credit is due. Anyway, now you know the terrible truth. I'm a conceited college drop out. And I work in retail. That part you knew already. But I'm happier now than I ever was in school. I work for myself and only myself and it's good."

  "And that's important?"

  "Spoken like a true outsider." He shrugged, shoving down the Ghost of Anxieties Past. "The work is all I ever wanted. Not the degree or the fame. No one is getting rich like this. Or at least, no one I know is. I just... can't imagine my life without art in it. I can't not do this. Things are... emptier, I guess. Flatter. Don't you have something like that?"

  He glanced at West just in time to see a shadow cross his face.

  "No. Not really." The words came out slow, covering volumes more than those four little syllables. "I can't even imagine it."

  There was an openness in that statement that Noah hadn't seen before. It made him choose his next words more carefully. "Maybe your thing is out there waiting for you to find it."

  "Maybe."

  "So I take it accounting isn't your passion."

  West snorted. "No."

  "You don't go home and dream about putting numbers into columns and figuring out percentages?" Noah teased.

  "God no. It's just a job—a good job. I can't even complain because my uncle already has a place for me when I graduate. Most people don't have that. So I'll probably go there unless I find something else. And that's my life. All wrapped up in a neat little bow."

  "No offense but that sounds kind of..." There was really no polite way to finish that sentence so Noah let the silence hang.

  West nodded. He looked down, losing himself in the act of picking through his box of lo mein. "I envy you. Doing what you want to do."

  "We all make sacrifices to get what we want, right? I'm no different. Sometimes I wish I'd stayed in school." He satisfied the need to move by picking at a loose stitch on the leg of his jeans. He hadn't meant to turn the mood so glum. "But it was not to be."

  "I thought you wanted to leave."

  There he went again, cutting Noah right down to the bone without even knowing the knife was in his hand. "I mean, yes? Sort of? It's complicated."

  "Meaning?" He'd set aside the box. All of his attention was focused on Noah again.

  He blew out a breath. "Art is where I've always put the thoughts that are too big for my head. See a great sunset, turn it into art. Have a bad day, turn it into art. When things are pinned down—in a photo or a drawing or what have you—I can step out of that feeling. I don't need to carry it anymore. It'll be there waiting if I need it, but the bad shit—the really bad feelings—those little shits are toothless. And that keeps me steady. It makes me fucking powerful. Being in school though? Suddenly I wasn't doing for myself anymore. No catharsis. It was performance and everyone was watching me fucking fail. You know what it's like to love something that much and lose it? Just poof. Gone. I dug and I dug, trying to find it again, absolutely desperate for it, and all I ended up with was a big fucking hole. And me, there, at the bottom of it. You may have noticed that I don't work well under pressure, or judgment, whatever you want to call it."

  He shot West a wry look. "The whole time at school, I was a panic attack wrapped in a depressive spiral. I hated myself for wanting to go to school and then I hated myself for wanting to quit. For needing to quit, because there really was no other way around it. I was barely even myself anymore. So, leaving was the right choice. It was a stepping stone. It took me where I needed to go. And now I've met you and we're doing amazing work together and I can't ask for more than that. I'm happy where I am. Mostly. I wouldn't say no to a bucket of money landing in my lap. I still have bills to pay."

  He glanced to the side, suddenly aware of how long he'd been speaking and how long West had been silent. Somehow West had gotten closer. Much closer.

  "What?"

  "I just wanted to see something." West's smile was dangerous.

  "Oh yeah? What's that?"

  "You." He licked his lips. Their eyes met.

  Every hair on Noah's body stood at attention, shivers starting at the base of his neck and working their way down his spine.

  A hand grazed his thigh as West shifted closer. And that was definitely West's nose brushing against his as he leaned in. West's lips pressing to his. They weren't cruel now. They were warm.

  Noah's world shattered and reformed itself around this new fact. He lived in a world where West kissed him with slick lips and a hunger he hadn't known existed. A world where West... kissed him at all.

  A world where Noah's every good intention shattered as he kissed him back.

  But fuck it, it had been a long time since anyone had kissed him and he didn't want it to stop. He didn't want West to stop. Now that he knew what that mouth felt like on his he never wanted to feel anything else. Just those lips. That tongue. The sharp edge of teeth.

  They tipped over, West onto his back and Noah over him, crushing a fortune cookie on the way down. The bag popped. West laughed against him. "Oops."

  "You kissed me." Noah pressed a kiss to one corner of his mouth and then the other.

  "Is that a problem?"

  "It depends. Are you going to do it again?"

  "Come here and find out."

  What he wanted was one thing and what he should do was something else, but it was hard to tell them apart while West pinned him with those heavy-lidded eyes, one hand hooked in Noah's belt loop like he owned him. Noah wanted to be owned. To belong right here in this moment. To have no greater purpose than kissing his way along West's body.

  He'd once wondered how far down West's blushes went. Maybe he should find out.

  "I was trying to be a gentleman." He let West pull him in for another kiss. It tasted faintly of ginger. "But I'm sensing you don't want that."

  "How'd you guess?"

  "Master of deduction. But you're gonna have to give me a minute to catch up here. I wasn't expecting this."

  West kissed him again. The hands he dug into Noah's back were firm and possessive, the tongue sweeping into his mouth even more so. The boy could kiss. Another surprise. "We could stop."

  "Oh fuck no. That's the last thing we should do."

  Their next kiss was peppered with laughs and West's hungry growls. Like he was starving. Noah understood. He'd been feeling the same way since the day they met.

  He traced the line of West's jaw with his lips before moving down in search of that curl of paint he'd been eyeing earlier. His marker. He brushed a kiss over it. Biting would have been better. Longer lasting.

  West lifted his head off the floor. "I'm still covered in paint."

  "It's nontoxic. I checked that too." He tugged at the buttons of West's shirt, meeting his eye in silent question before he undid them.

  West nodded. "Of course you did."

  "I believe in being pr
epared." West's fingers moved up into his hair, clenching into fists as Noah pulled a nipple into his mouth and bit. The prickle against his scalp was the perfect amount of pain. "Do that again."

  This time when West did, he used the leverage to pull Noah's head back up, his mouth to his. The kiss devoured Noah and he went oh so willingly. Each time West moaned felt like a grand achievement. He had done that. Every groan. Every sigh.

  "I want to make you feel good." Noah's tongue flicked against his ear and West shuddered. "Can I?" His hand rested on West's stomach, fingers in easy reach of his fly. He only needed the word.

  "God yes." He lifted his hips so Noah could tug down his briefs, shoving them and his jeans out of the way.

  Noah stroked West's length, the heat perfect against his palm, kissing along his neck as West arched up into the touch.

  West wasn't talking now, but this silence was okay. Instead of words it was filled with breathy gasps and bitten off cries. Noah smiled against his skin, trailing kisses down his chest. "Don't be shy. We're alone. Let me hear when you like it. Show me."

  Delicate fingers dragged over West's balls earned a knife-sharp inhale.

  "You like?"

  West choked.

  "That a yes?" Noah did it again, claiming West's mouth with a kiss so he could taste the gasps and groans when his touch danced circles over the soft skin. "Tell me what you want."

  West's legs parted a little further. He nodded.

  Oh he was going to enjoy playing this game so much. Taking turns between massaging and squeezing until each of West's breaths matched the rhythm he was setting. Fingers dug into his shoulders when Noah finally stroked him with one long slow pull. So slow. So slow that he was aching for it too. He needed the release. All sparks and sunlight filling him up from head to toe. Noah could play this teasing game for hours, but not now. He wanted to see what West looked like when he came apart. "Talk to me."

  West's groan seemed to come from the very bottom of his soul. "More. Faster."

  Noah obliged, matching to the thrust of West's hips and the rush of his breath. He was breathing just as hard. So fast he was seeing stars. West's back arched, neck stretched long and exposed in perfect invitation. Noah licked and sucked his way along it the same way he wanted to do with his cock.

  "Do you taste as good as you look?"

  Another moan. Teeth tugging at Noah's ear. He would be covered with bruises from the way West clawed at him come morning. That was good too.

  Noah raised his head, pushing West onto his back again and sliding lower. He blew a breath over his abdomen, bit his mark into that little indentation at West's hip, still stroking. "Should I find out?"

  "Stop talking and do it," West bit out.

  He couldn't help it. He laughed, a loud belly laugh as he crawled back up West's body for one more kiss from that vicious mouth. West's tongue slid between his lips, filling him, forceful to match his words, his hands hard on the back of Noah's head. Needy and urgent. Cradling him close. Noah could have sunk into that kiss and stayed there forever like a sailor lost to the sea. No one would ever hear from him again. That didn't sound like such a bad way to go.

  And he did go. Down, down, down. Following the line of hair from chest to abdomen like a treasure map. West's blushes stopped well before he got there but that was okay. What he found was just as good.

  West's hands fisted against the floor as Noah took West's cock into his mouth, tongue swirling along the underside. Painting pleasure on him like he'd done with a brush earlier. A mark for a mark. When he took him deeper, West moaned so low that Noah felt it in the floor under his palm.

  "Oh God."

  Oh, sweetheart, he thought. We've barely even begun.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Question Marks

  "He kissed me." Noah clutched the phone like a lifeline as his nerves threatened to rattle him apart like a rocket burning up on reentry.

  "What did I tell you?" Margot barked back. Part of the snapping might have been due to the early hour. He knew never to call her before noon and yet he'd done it anyway because the alternative was pacing circles in his apartment while watching the clock and he'd done enough of that in the last two months. He needed to shake up his routine. Find new ways to explore his anxiety. Meet new people. Blow them on the floor of his studio. Maybe even split them open like fresh fruit. They could try that next time. If there was a next time.

  He'd already been back to the studio this morning to clean up the evidence of last night, throwing the windows wide and freezing his ass off while he scrubbed spilled Chinese food and cum off the floor. Ames had caught him on the way back out, fixing him with one of their eerily observant stares, so he'd done the only logical thing: bought their studio time and their silence for the next month. They mostly used the space for the quiet it provided these days anyway. That could be found anywhere and this way Noah didn't have to worry about leaving any unsightly stains for them by accident.

  "You told me don't do the thing. But I didn't do the thing. He kissed me. I'm the kissed party, Margot. I wasn't prepared for that. I thought he hated me." He paused. "Actually, I still don't know that he doesn't. But!"

  There was a measured silence broken only by the clatter as Margot clawed her way out of bed and found her glasses. A muttered curse as she bounced off a wall. He'd once crashed at her apartment after a night of consolation drinking and he could remember most of the steps. She was worse at waking up than he was. She'd tried to give him coffee with mustard in it the first time. "I hope it was worth it."

  "It was," he assured her. "But behold my incredible surprise. And also my restraint. We only kissed."

  Her silence held an air of skepticism. In the background, he heard the sounds of someone else talking, the voice muffled, but with the unmistakable perkiness of Margot's girlfriend.

  "Okay and I got him off. But it was only my hand. And my mouth. A little. I kept expecting him to run away halfway through. I'm so confused."

  "Just a thought, but maybe you should be talking to him instead of me," she suggested dryly.

  "That sounds terrifying."

  "Then I don't know what to tell you, Noah. You made your hookup. Now you have to... lie in it—you know what, never mind. It's too early for this shit. Go talk to him. You had his dick in your mouth less than twenty-four hours ago. He can't scare you that much."

  Noah snorted derisively. She only said that because she hadn't met him. It was possible West terrified him more now than he had before. Now Noah had seen him blissed out and loose. Spilled out over the floor like a dream. After he'd come, West had smiled at him like he made the world and then he'd opened his arms and welcomed him in. Kissed him. Before there had been only the spiky hard edges and those moments of what if. As much as Noah liked all those pieces, he hadn't known enough to worry about losing them. He hadn't had anything to lose. But he'd seen beneath the spiny shell and now if he fucked this up, he knew exactly what he'd be missing.

  WEST DIDN'T KNOW WHAT to expect after their last session. Would Noah pretend like nothing had happened? Should West? Maybe nothing had happened. It was only the best blowjob of his life. He didn't have many to compare it against, but he thought it had been good. Better than good. He'd lain awake in bed that night touching every spot Noah had, chasing those same sensations, that same elation. He'd come laughing and when they kissed next West tasted himself on Noah's lips. It was his favorite flavor now.

  But Noah's studio was a pocket world. Once West walked out the door all of that stopped and he was left again in his own skin, with his own insecurities. His own doubts. And right now they were saying that West should turn around and run. Never come back. Forget everything he'd done. Forget everything he'd been that night. Forget how good it had felt to be in that moment, where there was no future and no consequences—only time standing still.

  He should forget.

  Run, run, run back to the place where he knew what he was doing because he'd done it so many times before.

&
nbsp; He didn't run though. He walked. Up the stairs. He stopped in front of the door to Noah's studio.

  They should talk about things. Clear up misunderstandings. Lay down expectations. He had a speech all prepared. End it before things got any more complicated, before Noah decided to do it for him. Everything could go back to the way it was before West—never mind.

  West stepped into the studio and straight into Noah's beaming smile. It was brilliant to the point of pain. And warm. West wasn't used to that kind of warmth being pointed in his direction.

  He melted immediately.

  "Hi."

  "Hey, sweetheart." Noah bounced up off the floor and came closer. One hand caught West by the hip. West let himself be pulled, already leaning in for the kiss that was sure to follow. Except it didn't come. Their foreheads bumped together instead. Noah's free hand found a home cupping the back of his neck. "Shit, you're freezing. There's snow in your hair."

  West backed up out of his grip. "It just started."

  Noah wore a black t-shirt, black jeans, and that familiar wicked grin. His hair was its usual shining mess. West could see his hands buried in it as they kissed, feel it sliding between his knotted fingers as he tugged. He wanted to do it. Throw Noah down on the floor and not let him up until West was satisfied that they were going to do all that again.

  He didn't trust himself to speak yet so West tugged off his coat and hung it beside the door. Noah's jacket hung on the other hook, its empty fabric shoulders nudging against those of West's coat.

  He cocked an imperious eyebrow at Noah.

  "You ready?" Noah asked. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.

  "Yeah, I am." So much for speeches and no mores and anything that wasn't the slow unbuttoning of his shirt under Noah's steady gaze. All the rest of it went poof. He'd been ready for this from the second he stepped back out into the hall the last time. He had been ready before he'd even left. It was ridiculous how addicted he already was to the way Noah's eyes felt on him. "Where do you want me?"