Page 16 of Noah
“That is what I want. That would make me very happy,” he says, and Noah’s blush intensifies. Noah’s head tilts, he even sways forward, as if his whole body is responding to what Jensen wants. He’s never seen anything like it. It’s almost like innocence. Trust.
Beautiful, he thinks but keeps his mouth shut.
It’s hard not to reach out and touch Noah, pull him in for a hug, and…well, would it be so bad if he called him beautiful? Told him he was deserving of good things? Noah is just a good man who deserves good things. Deserves a loving boyfriend and a stuffed animal.
No, he’s a good boy and he should be told that, reminded of it every fucking day.
God. How would that even work? Does one get permission to call someone a good boy? Is it a formal request? And then what would happen?
Jensen is so fucking far in over his head that it’s ridiculous. He needs to get out of here and have a bit of time to think. Noah is still staring up at him with wide eyes. As if he’s waiting for Jensen to do something.
What? What the hell were they talking about?
He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. It doesn’t help. “Okay, great. Great. Do you mind if I take the phone with me to the grocery store?”
His mouth twitches in amusement. “Is that to keep me honest? You think the moment you leave me alone in the apartment I’ll instantly check the messages and go back to him?”
“The thought has crossed my mind. It’s the worst thing I can think of.”
Noah looks away from him. He doesn’t promise to look.
“If you can promise me you won’t look at it while I’m gone, then the phone can stay.”
“You should take it with you,” Noah says after a deep breath.
Good boy, he doesn’t say. “I appreciate you being honest.”
“Thank you,” Noah mumbles, and the color is back in his cheeks.
“We are going to get you through this,” he promises.
“Can I go inside now?”
“Of course,” he says, and Noah goes inside and goes straight to his room, closing the door behind him.
He checks Noah’s phone, unsurprised to find it isn’t even locked. He can’t help but notice the similarities between Noah going from one man to another who checks his phone and it doesn’t sit well with him even though the situation is completely different.
Jensen puts down his bags and then checks the kitchen cabinets to see what’s needed. He’s used to cooking for one. He knocks on Noah’s door before he leaves. It takes Noah several moments to answer. His eyes are red-rimmed.
He should’ve bought Noah a stuffed animal. He should take him into his arms and fucking hold him.
“If I make a salad and some pasta will you eat that? Any food allergies or things you don’t like?”
“No, I’ll eat anything.”
“I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour. Probably less. Are you okay here by yourself? If you want me to wait for you to take a nap and then you can go with me, I’m happy to do that.”
“Thank you, but I’ll be alright,” he says and puts a hand on Jensen’s chest.
The touch is soft and almost innocent, just an unprompted physical response to human kindness. Noah’s a tactile person starved for affection. And maybe Jensen is too because he somehow finds his arms wrapped around Noah and Noah‘s head tucked into his neck even though he’d just decided he wasn’t going to do such an inappropriate thing.
“You’re going to be okay. You just need a little bit of a nap, maybe even a good cry, and then I’ll be back. We’ll make dinner and then sit on the couch with a comfy blanket.”
“Yes…okay,” he says, and Jensen wonders if Noah was about to call him sir. Ridiculous.
Noah sniffles and pulls away from him. “I don’t want to cry for him. I haven’t loved him in a long time. I don’t even like him. But I feel so guilty.”
“Maybe you’re not crying for him. Maybe you’re crying for yourself. For what you’ve been through and what you’ve lost? Even the amount of time you’ve wasted on him? You have reasons to be sad that don’t mean you need to forgive him or go back to him, you know. But it makes sense it might feel confusing right now.”
