Page 7 of Noah
“I’m not. I dabbled in it for a bit, but it didn’t suit me,” he says. “But, I don’t want you in a cage. That’s…yeah, leave that behind. I’ll get a bed and furniture,” he says and runs a hand through his hair.
“I can get my own furniture,” Noah says and blinks back tears. He isn’t sure why he’s upset, actually.
“No, I’ll take care of it. Let’s go get your things.”
“Oh, now?”
“Yes. I think right now,” he says, with so much conviction Noah breaks out into goosebumps.
4
It’s Noah’s first night in his new apartment, and he’s terrified. He shouldn’t be. They’d gone to get his stuff, and Johann hadn’t even been there. All that anxiety for nothing. Jensen had helped him pack, neither of them speaking, Jensen quickly emptied clothes into a black trash bag while Noah went through the bathroom for his toiletries. They went through that apartment like criminals, silent and efficient and it was only when Noah got into Jensen’s car that he started to shake.
And cry.
Tears slid down his cheeks, and he had to bite his bottom lip so it didn’t wobble and for fucking what? An asshole who’d treated him worse than a dog? Noah was now free, knew for a fact that he was making the best decision he could, and yet he was crying, and there was a part of him that was certain leaving was the biggest mistake he could possibly make.
Wasn’t he betraying Johann? Had it really been that bad? What would Johann think when he came home and discovered his slave hadn’t even had the courage to end it face-to-face?
Jensen didn’t say anything about the emotion as they drove, but he handed Noah a tissue. And when it was clear that Noah couldn’t get his breath to settle down, then Jensen had turned the radio on as a distraction, glanced over at him, and told him he’d be okay. And that had helped a little.
“I don’t even think I miss him,” Noah finally managed to say.
“Love is difficult.”
Love? The truth of it was that he hadn’t felt love for his master in a long time. Fear, yes. The desire to please, yes. But that wasn’t love. How can there be love when there is so much terror and a lack of trust? He doesn’t argue the point. Instead, he lays his head against the door frame and watches the city pass as he goes to his new home.
Jensen has money. Lots and lots of money. It’s apparent by the car and the penthouse that by the time they get home there is a delivery truck out front with a mattress, box spring, and bed frame. They follow the movers into the apartment, set it up, and Jensen starts opening up a package of sheets.
Noah goes to put them on the bed but Jensen stops him with a raised hand. “There’s a washing machine if you want to wash them first.”
“Oh,” he said because it hadn’t occurred to him.
Jensen took that for a yes and led the way. He wasn’t mean about it, and that’s definitely a nice change of pace because Johann would have been furious that it hadn’t occurred to him to wash the sheets before putting them on the bed. Johann had been angry about everything really.
Especially the last few months.
Jensen had opened a door off the kitchen (which Noah had just assumed was a closet) but which turned out to be a small laundry room to boot.
He’d set up his toiletries in the bathroom, unpacked as best he could, and then came out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, only to find Jensen carrying a nightstand through.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” He’d placed it down next to the bed. “We’ll order you one or two, whatever you want, but in the meantime, you can have this one.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience you,” Noah said.
“It isn’t. And I don’t mind.”
He hadn’t actually wanted to argue with Jensen about it. If this was what Jensen wanted him to have then he’d find a way to take it. Even if it feels wrong and too good. Honestly, it’s nice having someone take care of him and make good decisions for him. He isn’t used to someone being that thoughtful of him. Doing something for him without asking. Trying to anticipate his needs and meet them.
“You’re gonna spoil me, I’ll never leave.”
“That’s fine. You live here now,” he’d said, firmly. For someone who wasn’t a dom, he’d sure acted like it.
Noah stopped arguing, and looked down, aware there was a blush spreading over his cheeks. Jensen wanted him to have a nightstand, and it’s so god damned nice to have someone take care of him that he’d let it go.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
