Page 1 of Noah
1
It’s 10:30 am on a Wednesday, which means Jensen has been up for 3.5 hours. He’s exercised, eaten breakfast, prepared for the day, and spent an hour reading about what’s going on in the world and the financial markets. His print copy of The Financial Times is already in the recycling and his weekly copy of The Economist will be joining it after lunch.
It’s just another well-planned, routine day in an unending parade of routine and well-planned days— until it isn’t.
His phone rings, and while he doesn’t actually have an inkling that this is the phone call that is going to change the rest of his life.
It is.
In fact, it’s so far from what he’s expecting that he smiles when he sees who it is. Will? His old army buddy. He hasn’t seen him in a few years, but they keep in touch regularly.
He barely gets out a ‘hello’ before Will says, “Hey, so you know how you save someone’s life, and then you owe them for the rest of your life?”
“Vaguely,” Jensen responds and starts pacing his apartment.
“Look. I hate to ask, but this is really important. It’s also urgent.”
“I’m dreading it already,” Jensen says and manages to sound a little like he’s joking. Though he is dreading it already. His hands are getting sweaty, and his heart rate is picking up, and he doesn’t even know what this favor is yet! But he likes routine, and Will knows he likes routine, and so this must be bad.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Will says, apologetic.
“No problem. You saved my life and that does allow you some perks. What can I do for you?” he asks and starts pacing his apartment. Habit has him going to the window to look out at the park below him as if being able to look down on other people living their lives might give him more control over his own.
“I’ve got a friend, submissive and in the scene—well he’s been living as a slave for the last year, and the situation is bad. It’s abuse. I need him out of there and away from his master as soon as possible.”
“Okay,” he says, envisioning what Will might want him to do. Get a U-haul, and help him pack. Maybe throw a punch if this dom asshole puts up a fuss.
“He’s going to move in with you.”
Jensen laughs.
Will does not.
“What? No,” he says, when he realizes Will means it. Silence stretches over the line. “Will, we’ve been through a lot, but that’s too far. I don’t owe you that much.”
“Oh? What sort of value are you putting on life-saving these days?”
“Five dollars? Helping a stranger by driving a U-haul?” He presses his forehead against the cool glass. ‘Life-saving.’ He wishes Will was being melodramatic but Will had literally saved his life while they were in the military together.
“Good try. Look, he needs somewhere to go and a steady presence. He needs someone calm and stable—“
“None of that describes me. And what’s the expiration date on indebtedness for saving someone’s life?”
“You do this, and we’ll call it even. No offense, but this might be good for you. We’re coming up on another Christmas, which I know you’ll be spending alone in that giant soulless apartment you live in— notice I don’t call it home because it isn’t a ‘home.’ It’s too sterile and cold to be a home.”
“Ouch,” he says and looks around his apartment. Will isn’t wrong, and what he’s saying isn’t a surprise, but hearing him say it does make Jensen look at it from Will’s perspective. Anyone looking at his apartment would realize he likes the color gray. A lot.
Hmm.
“He also needs his own room, and I know you have at least one spare.”
Well, shit. “Will. I live alone for a reason. I still have bad nights, and I can’t guarantee it would be safe for him. I can put him up in a hotel or help him leave, but that’s it.”
His sigh is heavy. “He’ll go back if he’s alone. He needs structure. Johann has really done a number on him. Noah is a great guy. Absolutely amazing. There is no one more courageous and good than Noah. And he’s built like a brick shit house. He knows Judo. He can protect himself if he has to. And I hate to say it, but you freaking out in the middle of the night due to PTSD is probably still less upsetting than his everyday existence.”
That might be the saddest fucking thing he’s ever heard. Oh god. He’s going to do it, isn’t he?
“He had a messed up childhood and—“
