The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. If it feels personal… that’s between you and your conscience. Please don’t repost, reproduce, or do anything shady without permission—unless you're into cease and desist letters. Also: Save it. Like it. Comment on it. Send feedback, thoughts, corrections, compliments (especially compliments lmao). Seriously, I’ve been receiving a lot of love and it helps to motivate me! Yes, I read them.

---

STAY

Connor twitched again—shoulders locking up like his whole body was glitching under Noah’s weight.

“Shit—sh—ffffuck—”

His thighs were trembling. His back arched involuntarily. A noise tore out of him—wet, high, wrecked.

And Noah just kept going.

Slow. Deep. Purposeful. His face was tight with annoyance, jaw set, eyes flicking down with a kind of impatient focus—like he was irritated.

Liam couldn’t move.

Then—

A final thrust.

And then he pulled out.

A wet suction-pop like someone uncorking a bottle too full.

Followed by a dribble of clear liquid that leaked out of Connor’s ruined hole, sliding down the curve of his ass. Noah’s cock emerged glossy, twitching, still rock hard and pulsing heavy with leftover clean slick.

“Done,” Noah muttered, breathless, almost amused. He pulled off his cap and tossed it to the floor without looking.

He wiped a thumb across the base of his shaft, inspecting the mess like it was art. Then flicked the excess off onto the floor—didn’t even look where it landed.

Connor was still whimpering in bed.

Noah stood up—shoulders rolling as he stretched like he’d just finished a fucking workout again. His dick swung between his legs, big.

He walked across the room, slow. His back was streaked with sweat.

Noah reached the desk.

Picked up the phone.

Pressed play.

The room filled with noise.

“I like it—I love it—I fucking love it—please—”

Connor’s voice. Raw and clear and loud—on loop.

It was unmistakable.

The breathless begging. The high moans. The desperate, helpless cadence of someone completely broken down.

Connor’s head jerked up.

“What—the fuck is that—”

He tried to sit up but his arms gave out. He collapsed back onto the mattress, blinking hard like he was trying to reboot reality.

“Turn that off, dude—what—” Connor panted, trying to catch his breath between words.

Noah didn’t. He just turned slightly—still holding the phone—and watched Connor like a scientist watching bacteria twitch under a microscope.

The audio kept playing.

“Please—please, I need it—oh my god—”

Connor’s face crumpled.

“Delete it. Dude, please delete it—”

Noah looked down at the screen.

Tilted his head.

Then back at Connor.

And finally said, low and calm:

“Listen to me, you little shit…”

Beat.

“If you ever pull shit like that again—to Liam or to me…”

“…I’ll make sure everyone hears how much you loved getting dicked down.”

Silence.

Connor stared at him, disbelief all over his face.

Liam’s heart was pounding so hard he thought it might bruise his ribs.

He turned toward Noah.

And for the first time—

He saw it.

What all of that had been.

The control. The planning. The manipulation.

Noah hadn’t done this to humiliate him.

He’d done it to… destroy Connor.

Noah’s threat still lingered in the air, sharp and final, like a blade stuck upright in the floor. Connor wasn’t saying anything anymore. His mouth hung open a little, but the words were gone. His face was red, splotchy with shame, jaw twitching like he was either about to cry or puke. Liam guessed both.

Noah tossed the phone back on the desk without ceremony. Then he turned toward them—slowly, like he had all the time in the world—and ran a hand down his still semi-hard dick, casual and completely unfazed. He looked at Connor again, then down at the floor where his clothes were balled up in a corner.

“Get dressed,” he said flatly. “Get the fuck out.”

Connor blinked, stunned. For a second he didn’t move—like he hadn’t processed the words. His cock, thick and wet with cum, hung deflating between his legs—dripping down his thigh as he fumbled with his jeans. He didn’t even try to wipe himself down. Just moved like someone trying not to fall apart until they were out of sight.

Liam managed to pull his shirt over his head at some point, but his jeans were still open, his legs stiff. The room smelled like piss and sweat.

He watched Connor trip over himself trying to shove his feet into his shoes, eyes not meeting anyone’s. The whole room was silent.

Noah stood still. Calm.

Connor made it to the bedroom door and pulled it open with one shaking hand, still zipping up his pants like he thought he might vanish if he just moved fast enough.

Noah didn’t stop him.

Not yet anyway.

He let Connor stumble out, half-dressed and humiliated, down the hall—past the kitchen, into the living room. Liam followed, pulse thudding in his ears.

Connor reached the front door, grabbing for the knob like it was salvation.

That’s when Noah moved.

Fast.

He closed the distance in seconds—reached out, grabbed the back of Connor’s hoodie, and yanked him away from the exit like he weighed nothing. Connor’s feet skidded on the tile.

Connor let out a startled noise but didn’t resist. He barely had time to process what was happening before Noah had him shoved up against the hallway wall, his forearm pressed just under Connor’s throat.

The look on Noah’s face was nothing like the ones Liam had come to know. There was no smirk. No laziness. Nothing playful or performative.

Liam had seen that expression before.

The night of the mugging.

The night Noah tore that guy off of him and punched him so hard his hand broke.

And it was the same look.

The same instinct.

And it hit Liam, hard and fast, like a slap to the chest.

Noah had saved him.

Again.

Noah leaned in, voice low enough Liam barely heard it.

He told him that the video didn’t even matter. That he didn’t need it. That if Connor even looked at Liam wrong at work, Noah would kill him. Not metaphorically. Not as a joke.

Connor nodded, not looking at Noah. Or shook. It was hard to tell. His whole body was vibrating like a live wire.

Noah let go of him with a shove that wasn’t even violent—it was dismissive. Like he wasn’t worth the effort.

Connor staggered, then slipped out the door without another word.

This time, it clicked shut behind him for real.

Noah turned the lock.

He stood there for a second, still facing the door, his back to Liam.

The silence was weirdly loud. There was just breathing. And the dull throb in Liam’s ears that wouldn’t go away.

He stared at Noah’s ripped back.

“You good? Hurt?” He asked, still facing the door.

A beat.

Liam swallowed. “I’m… fine…”

He wanted to say more.

“…Thank you,” he said quietly.

Noah didn’t react at first.

Then he turned his head slightly, just enough to glance back over his shoulder.

“For what?” he asked, like it was a dumb question. Like Liam had just thanked him for handing him a water bottle.

Liam blinked. “For… what you did.”

Noah turned all the way around now, but his expression didn’t shift. If anything, he looked uncomfortable.

“It was fun fucking with that little shit,” he said with a shrug, like that was all it had been.

Liam didn’t answer right away. His throat was tight.

“…I mean it,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t have to—”

Noah cut him off with a look. Not angry. Just… unwilling. Like he physically didn’t know how to accept gratitude without short-circuiting.

“Don’t make it a thing,” he muttered. “Just DM me if he even breathes in your direction.”

Liam looked down, cheeks burning, and nodded.

He just stood there, heart pounding, watching Noah. And for once, there was no smirk. No one-liner. No cocky pivot into something easier.

Noah was… awkward.

Actually awkward.

Huh.

This was different.

He was standing still, arms a little too stiff at his sides, like he didn’t know what came next. Like he hadn’t planned for this part.

Liam opened his mouth, ready to try again, to thank him properly, maybe ask if he was okay—but then—

The sound of keys at the door.

A clink. A jingle. Then the soft, mechanical click of a lock turning.

The door creaked open, letting in the early evening light.

“Sweetie?”

A woman’s voice. Familiar.

Then—

“Hey, kid.”

Noah’s head snapped up, eyes wide for just a second before everything in his face softened.

And Liam saw it.

The shift.

The complete absolute shift.

Noah turned toward the door, and for the first time in… maybe ever? He smiled. A real one. Not smug. Not sarcastic.

Just full.

“Dad!”

His voice cracked just a little, and then he was moving—quick steps, arms already reaching out.

He hugged the man hard. Buried his face in his shoulder like he hadn’t seen him in years. Like he was a kid again.

His dad hugged him back just as tightly.

Adriana came in behind them, placing a gentle hand on Noah’s back. She looked tired.

Noah clung to his dad for a second longer, then finally pulled back, but the smile didn’t fade. Not completely.

Liam hadn’t moved. He just couldn’t.

He watched.

Noah’s back. The muscles in his arms, shoulders. The way he leaned into that embrace.

And Liam suddenly felt like he’d seen something he wasn’t supposed to.

Something private. Something soft.

He didn’t know what hurt more—the ache in his chest or the tightness in his throat.

Adriana opened her mouth like she was about to say something.

But Noah cut her off fast—still smiling, but it was tight now.

He glanced over his shoulder, as if remembering Liam was there.

“Hey, man—uh…” he started, voice casual but awkward still. “Would you…?”

Liam shook his head immediately.

“Yeah! No! Of course! I’ll give you guys some privacy.”

He grabbed his shoes without looking anyone in the eye and made his way to the door. As he stepped outside, he heard Noah laugh.

Liam closed the door gently behind him.

And moved.

The walk home didn’t feel real at first. It was windy but he wasn’t cold, but it felt like he should’ve been. Like the night air ought to hurt.

But all it did was give his brain time to catch up.

And once it started, he couldn’t stop it.

Liam had been standing there, completely useless, watching everything fall apart. Again. And Noah had stepped in like it was nothing.

And Liam…

God. He’d been mad at him.

He actually thought Noah had betrayed him. Thought he was being cold, or careless, or just a narcissistic asshole. He remembered the way he’d looked at Noah after Connor whispered those threats, like Noah had let it happen. Like he didn’t care.

He’d been so sure of it.

And now?

Now he felt gross.

Stupid. Disgusting.

Noah had his back the whole time, and Liam just stood there sulking in the corner—like some fragile little victim—judging him, resenting him.

Yeah—ideally, Connor would’ve been stopped before it ever got that far. Before any of it happened.

But Liam refused to doubt him now.

If Noah could’ve scared Connor off earlier—really shut it down before today—he would’ve. Liam knew that in his bones now.

It didn’t matter though.

It worked.

Connor’s flash of madness wouldn’t touch him again.

Liam had never felt so… safe. Not at school. Not with friends. Not with anyone. Not even in his own fucking house.

Noah had done that.

And then—

That hug.

That moment with his dad. The real smile. The way Noah ran to him, arms out, no filter. Like a kid who’d been holding it together just long enough to fall apart in the right arms.

It made Liam ache. Oh my God. It really did.

He didn’t know what Adriana had been about to say, but he had a guess. Something about the hospital. The treatment. Maybe his dad was home for a reason. Maybe something had changed.

And Liam had no right to know any of it.

He’d seen the sides Noah showed everyone—the cocky confidence, the sarcasm, the manipulation. He’d seen the danger now, twice—the violence simmering under all that control.

But that smile?

That had been different.

That had felt like truth.

He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and walked faster, like he could outrun the way his chest felt.

---

It’d only been a few days, but Liam felt like he hadn’t seen Noah in weeks.

Connor had been leaving him alone. The guy had gone full ghost—emails rare, and when they did land in Liam’s inbox, they were stripped bare and painfully formal. Every other interaction was the same: short, distant, mechanical. It was… a relief.

Especially now, with the whole department under a new boss—some hyper-demanding woman Liam hadn’t met yet, but from what he’d heard, she was strict as hell and kind of… a bitch.

So yeah. Connor’s radio silence? Refreshing.

He walked into the gym and spotted Dylan first—leaning on a rack, waving at him with that easy, earnest smile that never seemed to fade.

And then he saw Noah.

Towel slung over one shoulder, talking to someone near the weight racks like it was any other Thursday. Like he hadn’t completely destroyed someone in his bedroom three nights ago.

Liam hesitated near the door. For a second, he considered turning around and leaving. He didn’t know why.

But then Noah looked up.

Gave him a small nod. A flick of a smile. That easy, unreadable cool.

“Yo,” he said. “Your shake’s in the fridge.”

Liam managed a quiet thanks and went to grab it.

And as he stood there, he realized how everything lately—even something as small as Noah making him another shake—had been leaving him overwhelmed, getting under his skin in ways he hadn’t really noticed until now.

He sat down on the bench nearest the wall, sipping the shake and pretending not to stare.

Noah was working. Like normal. Laughing at something one of the other guys said. Tapping buttons on the front desk tablet. Occasionally glancing Liam’s way like he was just another regular.

Eventually, Noah walked over.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just leaned against the bench next to him, glancing down at the half-empty shake in Liam’s hands.

“You like it?” he asked, nodding at the cup. “I’ve been experimenting."

Liam looked at it, unsure if his throat even worked anymore.

“I think…” He hesitated. “It’s been getting kind of bitter? Like a little? Maybe it’s just me.”

Noah smirked.

“Nah. Not just you. It’s normal. Don’t worry about it.”

Liam blinked at him.

There was something almost playful in Noah’s tone—He hated how he could feel getting into his head again.

Liam sat in the locker room for almost twenty minutes after his workout, just… staring at the wall.

He felt wrung out. Like his brain was on some kind of delay, still trying to process everything while Noah cruised through life like a goddamn iceberg—chill, massive, and impossible to read.

He pulled out his phone.

His contacts blurred in and out as he scrolled, hesitating over a few names. Nobody felt right.

Until he saw hers.

Claire.

They hadn’t really talked. Not since the break-up. And he didn’t even know what he wanted from her—just that he couldn’t hold all of this alone anymore.

He hovered over her name for a second. Then typed.

[LIAM: hey… i know we haven’t really talked, but I need to talk to someone. kinda going crazy]

His thumb hovered over send. His heart raced like he was confessing something.

Then he hit it.

Seconds passed.

He regretted it.

Then her reply lit up the screen.

[CLAIRE: wanna meet up today?]

And Liam exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for days.

[LIAM: yeah]

Liam didn’t even shower after the workout. He could smell his own sweat.

He just changed his shirt, stuffed his gym clothes into his bag, and left. The café Claire picked was a few blocks away, tucked on the corner with a half-shaded patio and low tables that looked like they were meant to wobble.

He got there five minutes early.

Claire was already waiting. Always on time. Always thoughtful.

He missed her.

She stood up when she saw him, gave him a small, warm smile like she was trying to make it not weird. Like they hadn’t spent the last weeks orbiting each other at arm’s length, avoiding eye contact in hallways and conversations that mattered.

“Hey,” she said gently.

Liam sat down across from her, still flushed from the walk.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. There were too many ways to start and none of them felt right.

Claire broke the silence first. “You look tired.”

Liam gave a breathy laugh. “That’s kind.”

She smiled faintly. “Still drinking those terrible shakes?”

“Unfortunately,” he said, glancing at his half-empty cup. “I think they’re getting more bitter on purpose.”

Claire raised an eyebrow. “That Noah’s idea?”

He nodded, trying not to react too much to the way she said his name.

That’s when it just… spilled.

Not all at once. He started slow—fumbling, uncertain, like his mouth had to warm up to the truth—but once it started, he couldn’t stop.

He told her about Noah’s dad. Or at least, what he thought he knew. How he’d overheard a call. How Adriana almost said something before Noah cut her off.

How Noah had paused his scholarship and hadn’t told anyone. Not even Ashley.

Claire’s face shifted when she heard that. She didn’t interrupt. Just nodded, quiet, taking it in.

Liam went on.

About Dylan hitting on him.

He mentioned Ashley too. The way she’d been shooting him looks lately. Quiet judgment in every glance. Like he’d done something unforgivable that no one had explained to him.

Then Connor.

He didn’t say everything—not the sex, not the things he’d done—but enough. Enough for her to understand that Connor had tried to use him, and that Noah had stopped him.

He told her how it all happened so fast. How he’d just stood there. Let it happen.

“I didn’t even do anything,” he said, voice low. “He protected me. Fucking again. And the whole time, I didn’t even know the real weight on his back.”

Claire’s expression softened, but she didn’t speak yet.

“I feel like shit,” Liam muttered. “Like I should’ve—I don’t know. Done something? Fought back. Been someone. Not have depended on someone with so much on his plate already.”

His hands were clenched, knuckles white, buried under the edge of the table like they were hiding from it too.

“I tried to thank him,” he said. “And he acted like I was being weird. Like I made it a thing.”

“I don’t know, man.” He scoffed under his breath. “Maybe I did.”

He looked away, jaw tight.

“And now he’s just… acting like nothing happened. Like it didn’t mean anything. I don’t know how he does that.”

Silence fell between them.

Then Claire leaned in, elbows resting on the table like she wasn’t going anywhere. And what she said next didn’t feel like a slap or a comfort. It just… landed. Like something solid to hold onto.

“I think you’re being a little unfair to yourself,” she said.

Liam blinked, thrown off by how calm she sounded.

“You keep saying you didn’t do anything,” she continued. “But you did. You felt it. You appreciated it. You saw what was happening. You cared. That’s not nothing.”

He looked down again. At his fingers. At nothing.

“I don’t know if that counts,” he said.

Claire didn’t flinch.

“Do you know how many people would’ve just tuned it out? Pretended it wasn’t their problem? I’ve seen that version of you before. The one that checks out. But that’s not who you were this time.”

He started to argue—she could tell—but she lifted a hand to stop him.

“You’re overwhelmed, yeah. Scared, probably. But that doesn’t mean you were weak.”

She hesitated. Then added, softer, “And I think not telling him about his dad? That was the right call. Do not. It was an accident. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

That hit harder than she probably meant it to.

Claire shrugged a little, casual like she didn’t want to make it heavy.

“He doesn’t strike me as the type who likes… being seen,” she added. “Vulnerable, I mean. You know that by now, right?”

Liam gave the faintest snort. Yeah. He knew.

“You respecting that? That means something, Liam.”

She leaned back slightly, tone gentling even more.

“And for what it’s worth… I think he already knows you care.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two,” she said. “Your—friendship. Whatever. But I can tell you this—he wouldn’t have done all that if you didn’t matter.”

Liam’s throat tightened. He didn’t trust his voice, so he didn’t try.

Claire smiled—soft, but sad around the edges.

“I think you’re handling this better than you realize.”

Then, without warning, she reached out and tapped his knuckles with two fingers, barely a brush.

“You don’t have to figure it out today.”

Liam stayed still. Eyes locked on the spot she touched. Like he could freeze it in time.

Claire leaned back in her chair, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of her mouth like she just remembered something mildly chaotic.

“Oh—and if Ashley’s been acting pissed at you, that might be… kind of my fault.”

Liam frowned.

“I, uhh… might’ve told her I didn’t think Noah was the best influence. On her. And on you.”

She winced like she already regretted saying it. “And of course she flipped. Classic Ashley. All she took from that was, ‘Liam and Noah are close.’”

Liam shook his head slowly, still piecing it together.

Claire gave a small shrug. “I suspect—maybe she thinks you two hit bars every weekend and sabotage his will to commit. Ashley gets creative when she’s spiraling.”

She chuckled lightly. “Which is often.”

She tilted her head, studying him a little more carefully now.

“Honestly? I don’t even get it. Why everyone’s so drawn to him.”

Liam squinted. “Drawn to him?”

“Yeah. It’s like he walks into a room and people just… tilt toward him. Without even noticing.” She tapped the table. “Ashley, the guys at the gym, even the people at the club? And half the time he’s not even reciprocating. Or being nice.”

Liam didn’t argue. He knew exactly what she meant.

He’d watched it too—the way people unconsciously leaned closer, like Noah’s attention was flattering. The way they laughed louder when he was listening.

Claire narrowed her eyes slightly, like she was chasing a thought.

“I mean, I think he’s kind of an asshole but… he’s different with you,” she said. “You don’t chase his attention. You… uh, engage him. He doesn’t seem bored with you.”

She paused.

Then smiled.

And let it sit there between them.

---

The theater doors burst open, dumping them into the night air along with a flood of chatter and popcorn breath.

“That was so fucking over the top,” Noah said, arms stretching high above his head as they stepped onto the sidewalk. “The blue people were out there dodging fire arrows, taming lava dragons, and speaking fluent tree.”

“Well, it IS called Fire and Ash.” Liam let out a laugh. “I liked it!”

Noah gave him a look, brows raised like Liam had personally insulted physics. “Bro.”

Liam shrugged, smile tugging at his mouth. “What? I like aliens and stuff.”

Noah scoffed, grinning. “Yeah,‘cause you relate to the weird, misunderstood species.”

“And the soundtrack was kinda sick.” Liam ignored him.

“Oh, facts.” Noah nodded, eyes flicking over to him. “Soundtrack slapped.”

They moved through the crowd toward the parking lot. Noah, of course, didn’t weave—he just walked. Like the sea would part for him. And somehow, it did. People shifted, stepped aside. Liam followed a little behind.

Noah glanced back, just once, like checking to make sure Liam was still there.

The headlights flashed as they reached the car.

They pulled out of the lot, the night air slipping through the cracked window and licking at Liam’s neck.

The streetlights flicked past in lazy intervals.

Liam glanced over. Noah’s hand rested loose on the wheel, the other draped over the gearshift. Casual. Relaxed.

Liam’s fingers twitched in his lap.

“So…” he said, voice barely above the engine. “About the other night.”

Noah didn’t look over. “What night?”

Liam hesitated. “Connor.”

A short exhale through Noah’s nose. Dismissive. “Drop it. Or Imma piss on you again.”

Liam choked on a breath. “Jesus—”

Noah finally looked over, mouth curling. “What? You fucking liked it.”

“I did not—” Liam snapped, voice too high, too fast.

“Oh, yeah?” Noah scoffed, eyes back on the road. “Then why was your little thing hard as fuck?”

Liam opened his mouth. Closed it.

Noah didn’t. “Could’ve sworn you whined when I was all out.”

Liam looked away, heat crawling down his neck. He sat in it. Let the silence breathe.

Then, quietly—but firm:

“I’m not talking about that.”

Noah kept driving. Eyes forward.

Liam shifted in his seat. “I’m talking about Connor.”

Still nothing.

“You didn’t have to step in like that,” Liam said, trying not to let his voice break on it.

“I know.”

Silence.

“I mean it,” Liam added. “You really didn’t. And I don’t think I actually—”

“You said thanks,” Noah cut in, eyes still forward. “I got it. We’re good.”

Liam shook his head. “No, just listen… I want to thank you. Properly.”

That got a reaction. Not big. Just a flick of Noah’s mouth.

“Properly, huh?”

Liam instantly regretted the word. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“Oh no,” Noah said, tone suddenly bright. “If you wanna thank me properly, I got you.”

And before Liam could blink, Noah lifted his hips off the seat—just a little—and shoved his shorts down in one smooth, unapologetic motion. Black boxer briefs followed, yanked halfway down his thighs, cock springing free like this was the most obvious next step in the conversation.

Liam froze.

Like, full system shutdown.

The closed air in the car changed fast. Got heavy. Sweaty. Liam’s face burned. He knew he was staring. Couldn’t not. Noah’s cock was there, thick and flushed, resting against Noah’s thigh like it belonged there. Not fully hard but plump.

Noah didn’t even flinch. Didn’t check for traffic. Just tapped the wheel and let his leg flex a little with the gas, which made his dick sway.

“Go on,” he said casually, eyes on the road. “Show me your gratitude.”

Liam whipped his head toward the windshield. “Dude. What the fuck.”

“What?” Noah’s voice stayed light, but there was a smirk curling at the edge. “You said you wanted to thank me. This is me giving you a chance to.”

“This is you being insane.”

Noah shrugged. “I think it’s efficient.”

Liam was very much not looking, and also very much aware of every single movement Noah made.

Noah tilted his head slightly. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not—”

“You are,” he said, grinning now. “God, you’re so easy.”

Liam didn’t respond. His throat had turned into a sealed vault.

Noah’s voice dropped just a little. “C’mon. Take a sniff.”

Liam’s stomach flipped. “Jesus, Noah—”

“You’re already smelling it. Don’t pretend you’re not. Hell, even I can.”

“I’m not—!”

“Yeah?” Noah finally glanced over, slow and lazy like he knew. “Then why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

Liam clenched his jaw. He wasn’t gonna take the bait. Not this time. He wasn’t.

Except… he was. His eyes flicked once—just once—toward Noah’s lap.

Noah caught it.

“Ohhh, there he is,” he said, smug. “Like what you see?”

Liam’s voice came out rough. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

But his own cock didn’t seem to agree.

His jeans were already tight, the growing hardness unmistakable—embarrassing, even. And that smell… it drifted like smoke, faint but sharp. Raw. Animal. Like it bypassed his brain entirely and went straight to the worst parts of him.

His pulse throbbed in his throat.

He paused.

And then—

Ugh.

Fuck it.

He leaned forward, bracing a hand between the seats, reached out and gripped the plump dick. The skin was warm, shaft pulsing.

He paused.

Noah tilted his head, glanced down at him with a lazy grin.

“That it?”

He stretched a little in his seat, like he was getting comfortable.

“Here, I’ll help.”

And then—casually, effortlessly—he reached down, wrapped two fingers around the head, and peeled his foreskin back. Eyes still on the road.

The tip glistened. Wet. Sensitive. Absolutely unignorable.

Noah looked at him like he was asking him to pass the AUX.

“Just breathe in right there. Where it’s warm.”

His whole body tensed. He blinked like he’d been slapped.

Noah’s grin widened.

“Oh my god, you ARE blushing.”

He let out a snort. “You’re so fucking repressed, bro.”

Liam wanted to die.

“Dude, just lean in,” Noah said, voice syrupy now, dragging it out like he was speaking to a toddler. “Sniff it. Right there. Where I pulled it back.”

Liam clenched his fists. His thighs. His teeth.

“Come on, bro” He gave the tip a casual tap, like offering it. “I like seeing what happens to your brain when you inhale my musk.”

Liam made a sound in his throat. Something between a grunt and a whimper.

Noah laughed.

Hard.

And Liam—humiliated, pulsing, desperate—did it.

He leaned in.

Nose just a breath away from the pulled-back plump pink head.

And then—inhaled.

The scent hit like a brick.

Concentrated. Animal. Slightly sour, deeply male.

It wrapped around his brain like vines, like heat, like something he could drown in.

He let out a moan.

Not even a real one—just some stupid, guttural sound.

A sound with no dignity.

He tried to speak—tried to say something—but only disjointed syllables came out:

“—mmmmm’fuckkk—”

Noah lost it.

He slapped the wheel once, laughing so hard his voice cracked.

“BRO. Oh my god. You’re gone.”

Liam’s cheeks burned. His body shook.

He was still sniffing. Still fucking sniffing.

Noah was cackling now.

“I peeled my foreskin back and you started whimpering. Dude. DUDE. It never gets old.”

Liam moaned again—couldn’t stop it—and this time it was worse.

Pure fucking degradation.

And Noah?

Just driving.

Smirking.

Hard as fuck by then.

Laughing like Liam was his favorite toy in the whole world.

Liam’s face burned, ears hot.

“Go on,” Noah added, lower now. “Kiss it.”

Liam froze.

Noah glanced at him just briefly, that smirk ghosting across his face again. “You heard me. Just a kiss. Right on the tip.”

“I—”

“Don’t think. Just do it.”

Liam hesitated. His lips were inches away, heat radiating off Noah’s skin. His stomach twisted.

But he… fuck, he wanted it.

A soft, tentative press of his lips against the head. Just for a second.

Noah mocked. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Liam sat back a little, dizzy.

“No,” Noah said lazily. “That wasn’t good enough. Give me a real one. Open your mouth. Get the head wet. And tell it you love it while you do.”

Liam’s head snapped up. “Fuck off.”

Noah laughed under his breath. “Why not? Just imagine I’m tweaking your nipples. That also gets you dumb, right?”

“No.”

“Drop the act.” Noah didn’t even sound annoyed—more like… amused. “You’re gonna do it. You know that.”

Liam’s mouth was dry. He hated that Noah was right.

His cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, every breath dragging over the ache. He was leaking, he could feel it—damp against his briefs, sticky, humiliating. And the smell… God, it was inescapable now. It wrapped around him, sweet and rancid and perfect, hollowing him out from the inside.

His body leaned forward before he could stop it.

The heat was unbearable this close. The flushed skin, the loose foreskin still peeled back, the slit already wet—fuck. Liam’s head swam.

Ughh.

“I…” he whispered.

Closed his eyes. Winced.

“…love you.”

Then his mouth was on him.

Open, hot, wet. He kissed the head again, slower this time, lips parted. His tongue slipped out, just a little—barely a drag over the tip—and the taste hit sharp and salty, metallic and bitter. He went in again. Tongue pressed flat now, sliding underneath, licking the underside, feeling every pulse and twitch. It tasted like Noah. His lips wrapped around it, the seal wet and soft, spit already stringing.

And Noah—fucking Noah—just laughed again.

“Holy shit. You really do sound like you’re in love with my cock.”

Liam flinched, but didn’t stop.

Noah looked down once, smirk sharp. “Bet you could taste me from across the seat. And now you’re down there drooling on it like some bitch in heat.”

Liam’s cheeks flushed hard, but his mouth stayed where it was.

Noah huffed a low laugh. “Y’know what’s fucked? I didn’t even have to ask you to suck it. You’re already doing it. On your own. Fucking pathetic.”

Liam’s hips jerked, cock straining against soaked denim. Shame clung to him, but his mouth kept moving. He wasn’t kissing anymore. He was sucking.

Slow. Uncertain. But sucking.

The weight of it pressed against his tongue. The taste coated his mouth. Precum slicked his lips. He hated how familiar it felt—how easy it was, how much his body wanted it.

He shifted, thighs pressing together, trying not to whimper. He was taking more and more cock.

And then Noah’s breath hitched. Barely—but Liam caught it. He felt it.

Liam had done that.

Noah’s hand finally left the wheel—just for a second—and cradled the back of Liam’s head like he might push him down harder.

But he didn’t push him deeper.

He pulled him back.

Liam pulled off with a wet sound—slick, obscene—and just sat there, blinking like he’d been underwater too long. His lips were red. His chin was damp. His tongue tasted like sweat and dick.

He didn’t dare move.

Noah’s voice cut through the silence like it hadn’t been broken at all. “Off you go.”

The car rolled to a soft stop at the curb, engine idling. Noah didn’t even glance at him.

Liam reached for the door handle—then stopped. His fingers curled around it, went limp, then dropped.

Noah raised an eyebrow, finally turning his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Liam said. Too fast. Too thin. He cleared his throat, suddenly hyper-aware of the wetness on his lips. “I just—”

He tried the handle again. It clicked. Then shut again.

Noah tilted his head.

Liam rubbed the back of his neck, searching for a lie. Or a reason. Or anything that wouldn’t sound like ‘please let’s keep going’.

“You, uhh… wanna come in for a bit?”

Noah just stared.

“Coffee,” Liam added quickly. “Or to talk. Whatever.”

“Wow,” he said. “You really just pulled the ‘come in for coffee’ line like some chick in a shitty tank top hoping to get railed on her roommate’s couch.”

“No! I just thought… maybe we could talk.”

His jeans were still soaked with pre, the smell of Noah thick in the air. Shit, Noah was right. He was acting like some pathetic girl hoping to get off. And the worst part? He didn’t even care.

He just wanted to cum. That was it. Get it out. Scrape the want off and be done. Go back to normal. Like the other times.

Noah let the silence stretch. His eyes flicked lazily to the building, then back to Liam.

“Not sure I’ve got the time,” he said, voice light.

Panic sparked. “We still have to talk about Connor,” Liam blurted, too loud.

That finally earned him a look—a long one. Noah smiled, slow and lazy.

“Connor, huh?”

He popped his seatbelt, cracked the door open. “Alright. I’ll tell you everything. One time. Then I’m gone.”

Liam’s stomach dropped. That wasn’t what he wanted. Not really. But he nodded anyway. “Deal.”

Noah shut the engine off and got out. The air that rushed in behind him was cold and too clean. Liam followed, legs stiff, the ache between them making it hard to walk normal. His body was still humming, still buzzing, like it hadn’t caught up to the fact that it was over.

Inside, Noah dropped onto the couch like he owned it, as usual, immediately shedding both sneakers and kicking his legs up over the backrest. No socks. Just bare, warm soles and the immediate hit of his scent—thick, musky, sweat-worn.

Liam’s breath stuttered.

Noah patted the cushion directly below him. “Sit.”

It wasn’t a question.

Liam stood there for half a second, frozen—then sat. Close. Too close. His face level with Noah’s feet, heat radiating off the skin. He kept his eyes on the opposite wall like it meant something.

Noah cracked his neck, casual as ever. “Alright. I’ll tell you what happened with that little shit. But only if you promise not to bring it up again. No rehashing. No weird texts at midnight. No more ‘thank yous’. Deal?”

Liam nodded.

Noah stretched. His toes flexed, slow, one heel brushing the cushion by Liam’s thigh. “So. He texted me first. Real personal shit. Weird tone. Off from the jump. But I didn’t respond at first. Felt weird.”

Liam tried to focus on the words. He really did. But the smell was right there—warm and sharp and familiar, pressing against the back of his skull like a memory.

Noah shifted, one foot dragging slow across the cushion. “Then he tells me about the party. Says he knows it was you under the blanket. Said he wanted in. Like we were running some sick little club.”

Liam didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But his body betrayed him—just a slight tilt toward the foot. Just enough to inhale deeper.

Noah smirked faintly. “I told him he was full of shit. Didn’t admit to a thing. But then he starts dancing around it. Real subtle. Talking about what you ‘did to my cock.’ and how he knows how to keep a secret. You saw it that day.”

Liam’s head snapped toward him.

Noah’s tone was flat.

“Had to figure out a way to get Connor off our shit permanently. So I told myself ‘What if I let him think I was game? Just enough to get him to push?”

His eyes flicked up to Liam’s.

“Then I adapted. Pressed record. Rest was easy.”

That brought Liam back.

“But… why didn’t you tell me?” He hated how innocent he sounded.

Noah turned to him, slow grin curling at the corners. “You? Please. You’d have had a full breakdown before lunch. I had to act like I was on his side. You’re too transparent, little buddy.”

Liam stared at him.

“What about the pissing?”

His voice came out quieter than he meant it to.

Noah didn’t flinch.

“He kept bringing it up,” he said. “Wanted to do it himself. Kept asking.”

He looked at Liam evenly.

“Of course I wasn’t gonna let him do that to you.”

A pause.

“But that day, I needed him compliant. So… when he asked again…”

Another beat.

“I pissed on you.”

Liam’s chest tightened. He didn’t move.

Noah added, casually:

“And you loved it.”

“Fuck off,” Liam snapped, too fast.

But he didn’t try to deny it.

Didn’t even look away.

And beneath the flicker of humiliation, something else sank in—

Noah really had planned this. All of it.

He leaned his head back, sighing like the story had drained him. But his feet didn’t stop moving. They kept shifting, slow and deliberate, each pass closer to Liam’s face.

Liam’s jaw was tight. His fists were pressed into his lap. His body was screaming.

Noah’s smile sharpened. “Handled.”

Like it had been an errand.

Liam didn’t respond. The warmth of Noah’s sole was pressed right against his cheek now—barely touching, but unmistakable. The heat sank into his skin.

He let out a quiet, shaky breath. “Are you… not wearing socks anymore ‘cause of me?”

It came out soft. Pathetic.

Noah’s grin turned lethal. “Yeah. Actually.”

Liam’s chest clenched.

“I like seeing you squirm,” Noah said, voice low. “I like the way you get all hazy from the way I smell. The way your breathing changes. The way you’re helpless to it.”

Liam stared ahead. His throat was thick. His jeans were soaked through.

“That’s why I keep them close,” Noah went on, brushing the ball of his foot across Liam’s jaw. “My feet. My pits. My cock. You smell it, you want it. Everytime. But you don’t get it unless I say.”

He let the heel hover over Liam’s lips—right there, heavy and warm—and pulled it back.

“Power, right?” he said, smirking. “You feel it. And you like it.”

Liam didn’t answer.

Because he did feel it.

Fuck.

It was crawling under his skin, wrapping around his spine, coiling tight in his gut—and it made him hard. Pathetically hard. The word power still echoed in his head, thick and hot, and his cock twitched like it understood something he didn’t want to.

Noah finally leaned back, arms stretching with a lazy yawn, like the whole conversation had been a warm-up for a game he never actually planned on playing. Then he swung his legs down, shoved his sneakers on—no socks, of course—and stood.

“Alright,” he said, brushing his palms together. “I’m out.”

The words hit like a punch.

Liam’s chest clenched hard.

He didn’t want Noah to go. Not when his skin was still buzzing, his mouth still tasted like him, his dick still aching in his jeans. Not when his head was still full of Noah’s voice, and that smell, and those fucking feet. Not when all he wanted was… he didn’t even know what he wanted. Something. Anything.

But saying it?

He’d rather choke to death.

Noah was already walking toward the door.

Liam opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

He panicked.

Then—

“I… think I need a reset,” he blurted, voice high and wrecked and not his own.

And the second it left his mouth, his eyes dropped—fast—like he could take it back by refusing to witness it. Like maybe if he didn’t see Noah’s reaction, it wouldn’t count.

Noah stopped mid-stride.

Glanced over his shoulder, slow.

“A reset, huh?” His brow lifted in mock thoughtfulness, like Liam had just asked to borrow a pencil. Then he turned fully, lips quirking. “Nah.”

His grin went wicked. “Don’t feel like resetting you, little buddy. Sorry.”

Liam’s stomach plummeted. He just sat there, wrecked and desperate, watching Noah reach for the door like that was it. Like he was really going to just leave him like this—flushed and humiliated.

And then…

Noah paused.

One hand still on the knob, he let the door swing shut again—slow, deliberate. It clicked softly behind him.

He turned around, eyes glinting.

“But I do feel like fucking someone.”

Liam’s brain stalled.

His body locked up, lungs forgetting how to breathe. His eyes flicked to Noah without meaning to—just a flash—and of course, of course, Noah caught it.

Noah’s gaze dragged down Liam’s body, pausing on his legs, his chest, his mouth. Smirk blooming. “Yeah. I was gonna head to Ashley’s,” he said, tone almost bored. “But it’s cold as fuck. Kinda don’t feel like driving.”

He tilted his head.

“So…?”

Liam’s thoughts scattered like dropped glass.

Fucking someone.

That’s what he said.

Part of Liam—some brittle, dying part—tried to convince him maybe it meant something else. That Noah was being crude. Dramatic. Noah.

But the rest of him—the part still tasting Noah’s dick, still soaked with his smell—knew exactly what it meant.

And that part was screaming.

If he said yes—if he let it happen—there’d be no undoing it. It’d be Noah fucking him. And Liam letting it happen. Wanting it even.

Damn it.

He shifted on the couch, trying to hide the way his hips twitched. “What… what do you mean?” he asked, and even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. The worst kind—the kind Noah would see through in a heartbeat.

Noah’s smirk curled higher. “C’mon, little buddy. You know exactly what I mean.”

Then, gentler—coaxing—“It’s not like you’re a fag or anything. Chill.” He shrugged, easy. “It’s just getting off. Ejaculating, you know? Doesn’t mean shit. I thought you weren’t in your head anymore.”

His voice dropped a little, more playful now. “It’s basically the same thing as a reset, isn’t it? Stress relief. Bros helping bros.”

His smile sharpened. “You’ll feel better after. You love getting dumb on my cock.”

Liam’s throat closed.

His pulse kicked hard, stuttering behind his ribs. His dick throbbed—embarrassing, unavoidable.

He just wanted a reset. That was it. Just to take the edge off. He didn’t want to get—fucked. Jesus, he’d never even—

But he needed to get off. That’s all this was, right? Noah was right… it was like jerking off. Just with help.

And jerking off wasn’t fucking gay or whatever.

Noah didn’t press.

Didn’t wait.

He just turned, started walking toward the door again, casual as ever. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, already reaching for the knob. “I’ll just stick my dick in Ashley. She’s always down.”

He was laughing—low, amused, mean—when Liam’s voice broke through, too loud and too fast.

“Wait…”

Noah froze.

Turned back, one eyebrow raised.

Liam’s throat tightened. “Just—okay.”

Noah squinted at him, the smirk returning. “Okay what?”

“Come on, man,” Liam flinched like he’d been slapped. “Don’t,” he whispered. “Ok?”

But Noah just gave him that look. The one that said I already know, but I want you to know I know. He turned again, fingers curling around the doorknob, grip slow and deliberate.

Liam snapped.

“Jesus—fuck me, okay?!”

It came out rough, like it scraped his throat on the way up. He didn’t even look at Noah when he said it. His face was burning. His hands were fists in his lap. He felt sick. Raw. Exposed.

But Noah smiled.

Like the sun came out.

“Sure, little buddy, I’ll fuck you,” he said, easy. “Clothes off. Let’s go to your room.”

He bent, tugged his sneakers off with one hand and kicked them aside like he was getting comfortable—not eager, just done waiting. Then he turned and climbed up the stairs, not looking back, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

Liam sat frozen for a beat. Then stood. His hands shook as he stripped—shirt, jeans, briefs, all peeled off with that horrible mixture of dread and urgency. His skin felt too hot. Too seen.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He walked into the bedroom naked.

Noah was already on the bed.

Fully clothed.

One leg bent, hands behind his head like he was lounging at a sleepover, not about to wreck Liam’s entire life. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared.

Then, flatly:

“Put your jockstrap on.”

Liam blinked. “Uh…Why?”

Noah didn’t repeat himself. Just looked him up and down, unimpressed. “I don’t wanna see your sad little dick flopping around while we do this. Kinda kills the mood.”

The words landed like a slap. But he didn’t argue.

He turned, grabbed the jock from where it was folded on the chair, and stepped into it—slow, skin hot, breath shallow. His cock twitched against the mesh as he adjusted the waistband, trapped and throbbing.

Noah watched the whole thing with that same unreadable calm.

Once it was on, Liam looked over—uncertain.

Noah lifted a hand and curled two fingers, beckoning. “Sit down.”

Liam hesitated.

Noah tilted his head. “Not beside me. On me. Back to my chest. Face out.”

Liam’s breath stuttered.

But he moved—slow, trembling—climbing onto the bed and lowering himself down. His bare back pressed to Noah’s torso, skin against cotton. Noah’s arms settled loosely at his sides, and Liam felt the weight of them immediately, felt held, even if nothing was gripping him yet. Noah’s masculine smell enveloping him.

His heart was pounding like it wanted to punch through his ribs.

Noah didn’t say anything at first. Just sat up slightly, peeling his shirt off over his head, and suddenly it was skin to skin—Noah’s chest warm and solid against Liam’s back. The heat was unbearable.

“I’m gonna do something,” Noah said, calm. “But if you move…”

He let it hang.

“If you moan—”

Liam’s breath hitched.

“—I’m leaving. No joke. I’ll walk out and fuck Ashley until I forget this ever happened. You understand?”

Liam swallowed. “What—what are you gonna do?”

Noah didn’t answer.

He shifted, just slightly, legs folding until they caged Liam’s thighs between his own. Liam’s arms were stiff against his sides. He couldn’t see Noah. Could only feel him—everywhere.

“Do you understand?” Noah asked again, slower this time, voice close to his ear. Dangerous.

Liam nodded, throat dry. “…Yeah.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I… I understand.”

Noah smiled.

Then, his hands came up—warm, calloused, too familiar—and slid across Liam’s bare chest. He paused for half a second… and then brushed both thumbs directly over Liam’s nipples.

Just once. Gentle. Testing.

Liam nearly gasped.

The response in his body was instant. He went rigid, hips tensing, toes curling. His head tipped back slightly, like he was trying to run from the feeling even as it flooded him.

Noah didn’t miss it.

He circled again. Slower now. Thumbs dragging across swollen skin, fingers grazing the dip of his sternum, pressing just enough to keep Liam aware—anchored—bare.

Liam’s lips parted, breath shuddering out of him.

But he didn’t make a sound.

Didn’t dare.

“Already struggling, huh?” Noah murmured behind him, breath ghosting across the side of Liam’s neck. “I’ve barely touched you.”

He kept going. Slow, cruel circles. Brushing, pinching, dragging. One hand flattened against Liam’s chest while the other played with one sensitive peak, and Liam’s body was betraying him in real time—chest rising faster, cock twitching harder, precum leaking into the jockstrap mesh like it needed out.

He wanted to move.

To grind.

To cry.

To moan.

But he didn’t.

Not yet.

Noah leaned in, lips brushing the edge of Liam’s ear. “You make a sound,” he whispered again, “and I’m gone.”

Liam was trembling now.

Every brush of Noah’s fingers sent another jolt through him—another unbearable shock that started in his chest and shot straight down.

His cock was rock hard inside the jockstrap, soaked and leaking, his skin fever-hot, his muscles straining just to stay still. Every breath was a struggle. His jaw hurt from clenching. Eyes shut. Dizzy. He could feel the twitching press of Noah’s cock through his gym shorts—hot and heavy against the small of his back.

He couldn’t take much more. It felt too fucking good.

His voice cracked. “Noah—please—”

Noah hummed behind him, amused. “Mm?”

“I can’t—I can’t hold it like, I—please, stop—just stop.”

Noah’s hands didn’t stop. They slowed, which somehow made it worse. Thumbs brushing over Liam’s nipples in lazy, mocking and flicking.

“What are you talkin’ about?” he said softly, feigning ignorance. “I’m not doing anything.”

“I’m—s—serious,” Liam whispered, shame thick in his throat. “Imma—I’m gonna move, or—make a noise, I can’t help it—please, stop…”

Noah laughed—actually laughed. Low and mean and thrilled.

“Oh, no no no,” he said, breath warm against Liam’s ear. “This isn’t reset rules anymore, little buddy.”

Liam froze.

“The moment you got on this bed and let me play with your little tits?” Noah’s voice dropped lower, rougher. “That was fucking. This is mine now. I do what I want.”

And then—he pinched.

Both nipples, hard and sudden, and Liam choked on the sound that tried to escape.

His whole body jerked—spine twitching against the sweat-slick heat of Noah’s chest, damp skin sliding against his back like it belonged there. He could feel it all, too much at once—the firm press of muscle, the slow rise and fall of Noah’s breathing right by his ear, steady and maddeningly calm. Even his heartbeat felt loud against Liam’s spine, as if it was pulsing through him now.

Noah’s fingers didn’t slow. They rolled and teased, thumbs dragging in lazy, cruel circles over Liam’s nipples, catching just enough to make him gasp. The sensations blurred—skin too hot, breath too close, chest too wet, nerves firing like they were short-circuiting—and Liam felt himself slipping, body twitching without permission, mouth parted around a whimper he couldn’t suppress.

It was unbearable. It was perfect. He couldn’t even tell where Noah ended and he began anymore.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Noah murmured. “You can do this, yeah? Just keep still and let me get you wired up.”

He kept going.

Noah worked him, slow and merciless, and Liam was falling apart in real time. Whimpering now. Tiny, pathetic noises leaking out with every breath.

“Nnhhhhhhhhhh—fuck—man.”

A squeak. A whine. A shake.

Noah said nothing.

And then—it happened.

A moan slipped out. Soft. Desperate. Feminine.

Noah’s hands stopped immediately.

Liam froze.

“No—!” he gasped, panicked, reaching back without thinking—hands clamping down on Noah’s forearms like he could physically hold him in place. “Shit—I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to—please don’t go—”

Noah didn’t move.

Didn’t say anything for a second.

Then he let out a slow, dark laugh.

“Jesus Christ, dude,” He let out a wheezy laugh. “Fucking embarassing. Cringe.”

Liam’s chest twisted.

Noah shifted behind him, bringing his mouth close to Liam’s ear. “Holding me now?” he said, low and cruel. “Scared I’ll leave?”

Liam didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His hands were still locked on Noah’s arms like he’d fall apart if he let go. He felt ridiculous.

Noah smiled—felt it against Liam’s neck. “Little slut can’t even follow one rule. Dumbass.”

Liam flinched.

“I mean, fuck,” Noah continued, softer now, biting. “I didn’t even have to touch your pussy and you moaned like I was already inside you. You should hear yourself.”

Liam’s whole body shook.

Noah pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, slow and taunting. “You want me to stay?” he whispered.

Liam nodded, frantic.

“Say it.”

“I want you to stay,” Liam breathed.

Noah smiled against his skin. “I know you do, fuckface.”

Noah shifted behind him.

And Liam felt it instantly.

The lift of pressure. The heat pulling away. The loss of those hands. Of that mouth. Of everything holding him still.

Noah was getting up.

“No—” Liam’s voice cracked again, sudden and ragged. He reached back like before, panic rising in his chest. “Come on, dude, please don’t—I”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Noah was already standing beside the bed. His arms crossed. His smirk was lazy, his eyes half-lidded. “Fuck, you’re desperate. Chill out, baby girl.”

He stepped closer, looking Liam up and down like a problem he already owned. “I’m not leaving until I’ve pumped you so full of my kids, you won’t be able to walk without feeling them leak out of you.”

Liam choked.

His whole face flamed red. His spine locked. Looked down. His thighs twitched like they wanted to close, and Noah saw it—smirked wider.

“Aww, what?” he cooed mockingly. “That too much for your little pussy-brain to process?”

Liam didn’t know what to say.

His mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out. He was trembling again—sweaty, overstimulated, soaked in precum and somehow still burning.

Noah didn’t wait.

“Lie down.”

Liam looked up.

“Back on the mattress,” Noah said, firmer now. “Chest up. Arms loose. Open your legs.”

Liam’s stomach dropped.

He obeyed.

Like it was instinct.

He didn’t even question it—not really. Just moved. Back flat to the sheets. Arms falling to his sides. Legs spreading without thought.

And it hit him—right there, in that awful second of silence—how normal this had become.

Being told what to do. How to lay. How to open up.

Being looked at like he was a thing, not a person.

And the worst part?

How much his body fucking liked it.

How fast he moved. How little it took.

He swallowed hard, throat dry. His face was burning, but his hips stayed open, trembling under the weight of Noah’s gaze. His chest stung from the earlier teasing. His cock was leaking like he’d been edged for hours, and the air felt too sharp, too cold, too full of shame.

What the fuck was happening to him?

Noah stared down at him like he was a prize on display.

Liam saw everything.

Noah—shirtless, ripped, still in his gym shorts, a huge boner in it, chest slick with sweat—looked like he could crush him with a thought. Confident. Calm. Fully dressed from the waist down.

And Liam?

Naked. Spread. Chest flushed, cock leaking, nipples red and used.

The contrast made him want to curl up and disappear.

He was trembling, laid out like an offering. And Noah didn’t even look turned on. He looked amused.

He licked his lips.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “You don’t even get it, do you? You look like a fuckdoll, man.”

Liam whimpered, face twisting.

Noah didn’t give him time to recover.

Liam’s breath caught—heart thudding, chest tight—watching those strong hands slide up his thighs. The grip was bruising, thumbs digging in like he was meat.

Noah spread him open.

The jockstrap was a joke now, wet and clinging, the seam riding up between his cheeks. His cock twitched untouched, but Noah didn’t even look at it.

His eyes were locked lower.

And Liam felt it—his hole exposed, aching, tight and too visible. He could feel the air on it. Knew how he looked. Pink. Puffy. Wet.

Noah just stared.

Then he muttered, low, almost to himself, “So fucking beautiful.”

Liam wanted to crawl out of his skin.

But he didn’t move.

And then Noah leaned in—

And licked.

One slow, shameless drag of his tongue straight over Liam’s ass lips like he owned it.

Liam screamed.

Not a word. Not even a sound he recognized. Just this broken, stunned cry that burst out of his chest like his soul couldn’t handle it.

His back arched. His thighs trembled. His whole body betrayed him.

Noah groaned softly against his skin. “That’s it,” he murmured. “That’s the reaction I wanted.”

Noah didn’t stop.

He licked again. And again. Flat, deliberate strokes, tongue dragging slow over Liam’s hole like he needed to taste it. Like he was starving. His grip on Liam’s thighs never loosened—held him wide, open, helpless.

The shame was unreal. His cock throbbed untouched, leaking inside the jock. Just stayed between his legs, mouthing and kissing and spitting, tongue pushing in with more pressure each time, like he was getting impatient.

The wet sounds alone were enough to kill him.

And then—finally—Noah pulled back.

Liam felt the air hit him again, his hole raw and soaked.

He barely had time to think.

Noah grabbed his legs and shoved him back—further onto the bed—then climbed on after him, crawling between his thighs. He pushed his own shorts down to his knees, cock hard and flushed and angry-looking, and lined himself up on his hole without hesitation.

Liam barely had time to panic before Noah reached up—

—and shoved four fingers straight into his mouth.

Liam gagged around them, wide-eyed.

“Bite me and I’ll break your nose,” Noah said, voice low. “The head is already slick as fuck, but if it hurts too much?”

He leaned in, cock nudging against Liam’s slicked entrance.

“Suck on my fingers,” he whispered. “It’ll ground you.”

And then—without warning

He shoved his cock in.

All at once.

No mercy.

Liam’s eyes flew open—wide, wild, panicked.

Then his whole body seized, scream muffled around Noah’s fingers as his back arched off the bed, spine bowing like a livewire, legs up his shoulders. The pain was sharp, raw, a tearing heat that made him thrash on instinct, legs kicking weakly, fists bunching at the sheets.

Noah was inside him.

Deep.

Still.

Throbbing.

Liam tried to say something—anything—but all that came out was a broken, garbled noise around the fingers shoved in his mouth. His jaw ached. His throat was clenched. He wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to—

“Shut the fuck up,” Noah murmured, low and gentle, hand braced on Liam’s hip to keep him steady. “Stop fucking whining.”

Liam whimpered, still twitching, but Noah didn’t move. Didn’t pull out. Just stayed there, inside, letting Liam feel every inch, and kept talking.

“I know it hurts, baby. Hey. Hey. Look at me. You’re a big boy aren’t you?”

Liam’s eyes were still wide. Shiny. He blinked fast, breath stuttering in and out through his nose. His hole stretching like crazy.

“Suck on my fingers,” Noah said, voice soft now. Almost tender. “C’mon. It’ll help. Suck on them, stay with me.”

Liam didn’t want to obey.

Didn’t want it to work.

But it did.

Still in pain, his mouth softened. His lips closed. His tongue twitched—hesitant at first—and then he started to suck. Gentle. Slow.

And Noah melted above him.

“Ohhh, gooooood boy,” he whispered, brushing his free hand over Liam’s chest. “There you go. That’s it. Just like that. Feel better?”

Liam made a wounded sound—humiliated, shaky, overwhelmed.

And Noah smiled, proud. So proud.

“That’s my baby girl! Dude, I’m so proud of you.”

Liam was still sucking on Noah’s fingers, chest rising fast, trying to breathe through it, trying to hang on—

Then Noah spoke again.

“I’m gonna start fucking you now.”

Liam’s eyes flew open, and he shook his head. Hard. A frantic, jerky ‘no’ like a kid about to cry, eyes wide with panic.

Not yet. Not ready. Not like this.

But Noah just chuckled.

“Yeah, I am, little buddy.” His voice dropped into a low, mocking coo. “Didn’t you want me to stay? You gotta take responsibility, yeah?”

Liam whimpered against his hand.

He didn’t nod.

Didn’t agree.

He just shut his eyes tight—squeezed them closed like the world would go away—and sucked harder on Noah’s fingers, like that was the only thing keeping him tethered to Earth.

Noah grinned.

“Atta boy.”

Then—he moved.

His hips pulled back.

Slow. Long. Deliberate.

And Liam felt it.

Felt the stretch again—felt every inch of Noah’s fat teenage cock dragging out of him, like his body didn’t want to let go. Like Noah’s cock was anchored too deep, scraping every nerve on the way out.

And then—slam.

Noah thrust back in.

Hard.

Deep.

Like he was trying to stake a claim.

Liam screamed into his palm, eyes flying open again, body jolting like he’d been shocked. His hands clawed at the sheets, legs twitching.

He could feel Noah inside him—really feel him. Not just at the entrance. Not just deep. But pressing up into him, heavy and thick and unrelenting, like it was trying to reach his stomach.

Like it was claiming space his body didn’t even know it had.

He couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

It felt impossible. Like his guts were folding around the cock. Like something huge was inside him, and his whole body was trying—and failing—to adjust.

Noah didn’t give him time to recover.

He laughed, voice breathy with pleasure.

“Jesus, dude,” Noah grunted, pace stuttering as he bottomed out again. “You’re squeezing me like a fuckin’ vice.”

He laughed—sharp and mean.

“You thought I’d do it slow for you like the other times?” Noah’s voice was low, breathless, mean. “You thought I’d be all careful and delicate again?”

He laughed—dark, sharp, cruel.

“Nah. This isn’t reset bullshit anymore. This is fucking. I’m fucking you.”

And then he slammed in again—brutal, deep—like he meant every word.

“Shoving my dick in all at once is just more fun for me. Sorry, little buddy, nothing I can do about that.”

Liam whimpered again—tiny, broken.

“I wish you could see yourself right now, baby, twitching and teasing up like a little bitch while I split your soft pussy open. God, you look beautiful.”

Noah kept going.

Pulled out again—slow, teasing—and slammed back in with a grunt.

He leaned over, mouth by Liam’s ear, cruel grin spreading. “You’re so fuckin’ tight it’s embarrassing.”

Liam sucked on his fingers like he’d die without them, moaning helplessly around the digits, tears starting to sting behind his eyes. It was better by now but not gone.

“You gonna cry?” Noah whispered, voice sugary. “My girl needs a break?”

He went in again. Long thrusts.

Liam choked on his fingers.

Noah’s smile got wider.

“Too bad. I don’t give a fuck. Just stay open and let me permanentely fuck you up, yeah?”

Noah used him like he was nothing but a hole, thrust after thrust tearing soundless screams out of Liam’s throat, every slam forced his ass to open more—walls pushed wider, no matter how tight he stayed.

Like Noah was training him from the inside.

And then—somewhere along the way—

It started to feel good.

No—more than good.

It started low. Deep. A familiar spark buried so far inside him it didn’t feel real at first—just a twitch. A shiver. Then it built. Grew. Turned molten.

Until it was everywhere.

He tried taking Noah’s fingers from his mouth but Noah wouldn’t let him so he moaned into them.

“Oh—Ohhhh—Oh bby god oh bby goooOOOOOOODDDD—”

Like someone had flipped a switch inside him, and now every thrust sent lightning through his spine.

Liam’s vision blurred.

He looked up—and saw Noah.

“Yyesusss—yoowl—hummmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.”

Towering over him, broad and soaked, arms flexed from the force of holding Liam’s legs up, sweat sliding down his abs in shining trails. His face was tight with focus—his jaw clenched, brows low, mouth open with heavy, hungry breaths.

And his eyes.

Locked on Liam’s face.

Piercing. Unrelenting. Like he was watching every twitch, every moan, every breakdown in real time—and loving it.

“That’s it, baby. Give in. Let go.” Noah panted, slamming into him again—harder this time, deeper. “What—your little pussy finally starting to feel funny, baby? That why you’re drooling on my fingers?”

He grinned down at him, drenched in sweat, eyes wild.

“All that whining and crying, and now look at you—milking my cock like you fuckin’ need my kids.”

Another thrust—brutal. Liam jolted.

“God, you’re disgusting,” Noah growled, smiling like he was proud of it. “You’re gonna cum from your pussy, aren’t you? No hands, no nothing. Just me pounding that fuckin’ spot until your dumb little brain fries.”

Liam couldn’t speak.

His head tipped back, fingers clutching helplessly at the sheets, legs trembling against Noah’s shoulders. Dizzy—vision swimming, lips parted, cock leaking against the jock’s fabric—and it just kept getting better. Noah drew his fingers from Liam’s mouth, sliding both hands down to grip his hips, squeezing hard.

“Hummmmmmmmmm—Uh—uh—uhhhh—”

“You’re actually getting off on this?” Noah laughed, breath hot and ragged. “You’re melting on my dick, dude, what the fuck.”

Liam moaned.

“That little dick isn’t good for anything. Been dropping hints for months, baby. And now—” he slammed in deep, grinning down at Liam’s wrecked face—“now you get it.”

Moaned again.

Long. Loud. His whole body shook.

Why does this always feel—

“Ahh—nnhh—uhuuuuuuuuuuh—whoaaaaaa I—”

—so fucking good?

Noah’s hips never stopped.

“Christ,” Noah mocked him between thrusts, “there it is again—fuckin’ dumbass sounds you’re making? That’s you dude. That’s how you sound.”

His brain was drowning. Everything was too much—the way Noah towered over him, legs hooked on those broad shoulders, chest slick with sweat, eyes locked on him like he was the only thing in the room.

And somewhere under all that dizzy, white-hot pleasure… flashes of other things pushed through.

Noah, punching the robber away from him.

Noah stepping between him and Connor, voice sharp, protective.

Noah hugging his dad—face soft, genuine smile, eyes gentle.

It was all mixing with the now—with the stretch, the pressure, the giant throbbing cock inside him.

Before Liam even knew what he was doing, his arms were moving.

Up.

Hooking loosely around Noah’s neck.

Fingers brushing his jaw.

Noah froze.

For a split second, his hips stilled.

Liam’s face tilted up, lips parting, instinct pulling him closer to Noah’s—

Noah’s eyes went wide. His head jerked back like he’d been shocked.

“YOOOOOO—what the fuck, man?!” he blurted, actually startled. His body shifted immediately, pulling back so he was no longer curling over Liam, straightening up—still inside him, but creating space. His hands came up like he was warding something off. “I don’t swing that way.”

Liam’s breath caught.

What… the fuck—

—had he just done?

He didn’t even know.

It had just… happened.

Oh my god.

Oh my fucking god.

He’d tried to kiss another dude. He’d tried to kiss… Noah!

What the FUCK!!!

Now he was flat on his back, dick still leaking, chest heaving, staring up at Noah—still inside him, but suddenly a mile away—and feeling like the whole world had tilted under him.

Liam swallowed hard, chest still heaving.

“I—” His voice cracked. “—I didn’t—” He blinked fast, heat flooding his face. “I wasn’t—thinking. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” His throat bobbed. “I’m not… gay either! You know that! It just—”

The words tumbled out too quick, like maybe if he said them fast enough they’d undo whatever just happened. “Seriously. I’m sorry. Fuck!”

Noah didn’t answer right away.

Just stood there over him, still throbbing inside, looking down with that unreadable stare.

Then—slowly—his mouth curled into a smirk.

“Yeah… I get it.” His tone was maddeningly casual. “The head of my dick’s doing that to you. Every time I’m inside, you lose 30 IQ points.”

He didn’t even try to hide the grin in his voice. “Can’t form a sentence, can’t hold a thought—you’re stuck on one loop: Noah’s cock, Noah’s cock, Noah’s cock.”

He leaned in, like he was explaining something simple to someone very, very slow.

“I’m permanently messing you up, Liam. I fuck you, and your brain just… powers down. Like even your body knows it’s not needed anymore.”

Before Liam could react, Noah shifted his stance—hips rolling forward and up—and the angle slammed straight into something deep inside him that made his whole body light up.

White heat shot through Liam’s gut. His mouth fell open. A sound escaped him—high, desperate, broken.

“Ohh—WHAT—Ngghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh—”

Noah’s grin widened.

“See? You’re gone.”

And just like that, they were moving again—Noah’s hips working him open with that same merciless rhythm, the moment between them shoved into some shadowy corner of Liam’s mind where it could be ignored.

Noah’s thrusts didn’t falter, but his grin shifted—like he’d just remembered something.

“You wanna go insane?” he murmured, voice dark and dangerous, right against Liam’s ear. “You like getting brain-dead off my cock, don’t you? Twitching and moaning like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.”

Liam heard Noah’s voice—close, right in his ear—but the words barely registered. They hit his skull and slid off like water. Nothing stuck. His body wasn’t letting him process anything. Not thought, not language.

Only sensation. Only stretch. Only thick cock.

His asshole was the only thing that mattered—tight, aching, clenching around Noah like it had taken over as the command center. Everything else—his limbs, his voice, his fucking mind—was just along for the ride.

Noah chuckled—low, cruel, condescending as hell.

“Anybody still in there?”

He shifted forward, slow and deliberate, crawling up the bed like he owned every inch of it—and Liam. One hand gripped Liam’s waist, the other tilting his hips just right.

“Guess not.”

—and then slam.

Noah drove in at a sharp angle, so deep Liam swore he felt something inside him give way—his second ring stretching, budging to take him deeper still.

A shockwave of sensation tore through him—violent, electric—his whole body seizing as Noah’s cock dragged across raw, hypersensitive nerves that had no business being touched that deep.

Both his holes clenched hard, fluttering around the intrusion like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to shove Noah out or suck him in deeper.

Liam moaned—long, wrecked, filthy—mouth falling open like he’d forgotten how to close it. No words, no shame, just a stupid, desperate sound spilling out of him like his brain had finally surrendered.

“Ohhhhhhhhh FUUCKKKKK —ohhh fuuuck—ahhh, shit, shit—”

Noah laughed.

“—SHIIIIIIIIT—ahhh—nghhhhhhhh—”

Not a little chuckle—a full laugh, sharp and delighted, like he couldn’t believe how far gone Liam was.

“Jesus Christ, listen to you,” he said, hips still pounding into him. “I fucking love making you sound like this. You’re actually getting stupider the harder I fuck you.”

Liam’s head rolled back, a string of curses and moans spilling out of him.

Noah’s hand shot up, grabbing his face—fingers digging into his cheeks, forcing him to look up.

“You wanted to kiss me, didn’t you, like you were my girl?”

Liam’s breath hitched, shallow and ragged. His brain was fog—no, static.

Eyes crossed, mouth slack, smiling idiotically, drool trailing from his lip as his hips kept moving on instinct alone.

Noah’s grin spread slow, dangerous.

“Well… here’s the next best thing.”

“Open your mouth.”

And somehow Liam’s lips parted instantly.

Noah leaned over, spit pooling in his mouth before he let it drop—slow and stringy and hot and wet—straight onto Liam’s tongue.

Liam shuddered, a muffled moan slipping out around it.

“Good boy,” Noah muttered, smirk deepening as he went right back to using him. “Now swallow.”

Liam’s eyes fluttered half-shut as he obeyed.

He could feel it slide down his throat—warm, slick, Noah—and the thought alone made another shaky moan spill out of him.

God, he’d just swallowed another man’s spit.

Noah’s spit.

And it felt… Fuck.

It felt hot. His body felt so amazing.

Wrong, filthy, humiliating—and so fucking hot it almost hurt.

Before he could even process it, Noah’s hips shifted and he started rutting harder—deep—into that second tight ring, pounding it until Liam felt every push in places he didn’t think could be touched.

It was like being split open twice over.

He wasn’t just feeling himself anymore; his whole body felt plugged into Noah’s rhythm, every nerve jacked into the same brutal pace. He could feel drool drooping from his mouth. He was smiling, eyes crossed now.

“You like that?” Noah taunted between thrusts, voice low and cruel. “Getting pounded in your second slut hole while you swallow my spit? Huh, fuckface?”

Liam moaned louder, the sound breaking apart on the edges.

“You about to cum?” Noah asked, voice dripping with fake concern. “From your pussy? That’s weird, tho?”

Liam’s head rolled back, another filthy sound dragging from his throat. Arms shaking.

“I mean, guys are supposed to use their cocks to cum,” Noah sneered, “but… where’s yours?”

He closed in, curling over Liam until their skin nearly touched, his breath hot and smug against Liam’s ear.

“You’ve got a pathetic little clit,” he murmured, each word a taunt, “and a needy G-spot so far up inside, it’s mine. No one else will ever touch it but me.”

Then he shifted his hips and drove in at a brutal, perfect angle.

“Ffffhh—WHHHhhhoaaaaaa—fuuuuuuuckkkk—ohhh my goddd—” Liam’s voice cracked high, helpless, every muscle locking up as the spot lit him on fire.

“Yeah…” Noah’s smirk deepened, tone almost pitying but dripping with ownership. “Thought so. Your whole body’s mine now. Not your pussy, not your brain—nothing works unless I’m inside you anymore.”

Another thrust—hard enough to make Liam’s toes curl and his mouth fall open in a ragged gasp.

“You couldn’t cum without my cock now if you tried,” Noah went on, tone half-mocking, half-possessive. “You’re ruined. I ruined you. Forever.”

Noah’s pace got rougher—harder—every thrust driving that perfect angle like he was trying to split Liam in half. His breathing turned ragged, almost feral, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing through the room.

“Fuck—fuck, you’re so tight—” Noah gritted out, voice cracking with pleasure. “God, I can feel you gripping—like your pussy lips don’t wanna let me go—”

His asshole felt so good.

Then Noah’s tone changed—low and wrecked, every word hitting like another thrust. More eager.

“Shit—fuck—fuck, I’m gonna fill you up—” He shoved in deep and stayed there, grinding hard. “Gonna dump it all in your little pussy—make you pregnant—”

Liam whimpered, high and helpless.

Noah’s hips jerked once—twice—then he groaned loud, head dropping forward, teeth clenched. “Ohhh, fuckkkk—Imma knock you up—take it—take my cum—fuucccccCCKKKKKKKKKKK.”

Liam felt it.

The first hot rope pushing inside him, thick and deep, then another, and another—each pulse making his own cock throb painfully inside the soaked mesh of his jock. The pressure was insane, he could feel Noah’s cock inflate and deflate with each pulse, each gush of his jizz inside him. Like his body was too full, like every twitch of Noah’s cock was claiming more space inside him.

Noah’s voice broke, mid-nut, in a laugh—low, breathless. “You feel that? That’s me fucking owning you from the inside. Marking what’s fucking mine, baby girl.”

Something in Liam snapped.

The pressure, the heat, the relentless way Noah stayed buried to his pubes—he couldn’t fight it. His body jerked under Noah’s weight and his cock started spurting inside the jock, hot and messy, soaking him completely.

He moaned through it, loud and raw, hips twitching helplessly. Pushed his asshole out.

Noah felt it. He knew.

“Aww—look at you—” Noah’s voice was pure filth now, grinning through every word. “Cumming in your little panties, blooming your pussy on my cock. You’re so fucking gone, man. I thought it’d take more time but you’re already broken.” He chuckled.

Liam’s chest heaved, the orgasm dragging through him like it would never end, every aftershock mixing with the heavy, molten weight of Noah still inside him—still pumping his 19 year old seed into him.

Noah finally slowed, grinding once more for good measure, his smirk lazy but proud.

“Yeah,” he murmured, breath hot against Liam’s ear. “Keep it all in there. Don’t waste a drop.”

Liam was still riding the last ragged waves of it, his cock giving weak, useless twitches inside the jock—no longer even fully hard.

The soaked mesh clung to him, heavy and disgusting, loaded with cum. Every little shift made it squelch faintly against his skin, warm and sticky, the wet fabric plastered to his balls and shaft. He could feel the mess moving inside it, smearing over him, obscene and squishy with every breath.

They stayed like that—bodies locked, throbbing in sync, breath hot and heavy in the silence. Sweat dripped, cum leaked, and neither of them moved. Just the twitch of overstimmed muscles and the faint pulse of aftershocks, both of them still buried, still linked, as the last waves of pleasure rippled through them slow and relentless.

Then Noah collapsed beside him, chest still heaving, one arm thrown lazily behind his head like he’d just finished a workout.

Liam stared at the ceiling, catching his breath, every shift of his hips making him feel the hot, heavy slick inside him—slowly seeping lower. The absence of Noah’s cock made it worse somehow, made him more aware of how much was in there.

And he hated how badly he wanted him back inside.

“Best fuck of your life, I know.” Noah smirked without even looking at him. Don’t worry, you can thank me ‘properly’ again later if you want.”

But Liam didn’t laugh.

He couldn’t.

Thought returned in fragments—slow, stuttering. The room was spinning less. His breath still came shallow, but it was his again. He blinked, once, twice, vision hazy. Awareness crawled back into his bones like something cold and reluctant. He was still full. Still trembling. But he was there now.

Noah lay beside him—shorts still bunched at his knees, cock half-hard and glistening, his chest rising with deep, satisfied breaths. Smug. Relaxed. Like they hadn’t just crossed a line Liam didn’t even know existed until it was behind him.

And he looked… Fuck.

He looked beautiful.

So alive. So unbothered.

Liam blinked up at the ceiling, his own release still sticky against his skin, the squelch of it shifting faintly as he breathed. Every detail was raw now. Too vivid. Too real.

His gaze slid back to Noah. To the curve of his torso, the soft definition of his stomach—and there it was. The scar. Pink and jagged along the left side of his abs, cutting across smooth skin like a reminder.

Of what he’d done.

For Liam.

Liam swallowed, suddenly cold.

Noah could’ve been killed because of him. Because he tried to help. And he did it again with Connor. And now here he was—beside him, flushed and glowing, while Liam curled inward, hiding the truth from him.

Liam felt unworthy, small.

The silence between them stretched.

Noah was… smiling. Oblivious.

His mouth moved before he even knew what he was doing.

“…Noah?”

Noah hummed without opening his eyes. “Mm?”

“I know…”

The air changed.

Noah opened his eyes.

“…Know what?”

Liam’s throat closed. “About your dad.”

Noah didn’t move. Just blinked. Slowly. Once.

Then his jaw flexed.

“What the fuck?”

Liam pushed up halfway, chest tight. “That night. Ashley’s party. You were upstairs—I was waiting downstairs. Your mom was on the phone. She said something. About the treatments. I didn’t mean to hear it—”

Noah kept silent.

Liam went on, small. “I didn’t know how to bring it up. I—”

“You’ve known.” His voice sharpened. “Since then?”

“I wanted to help you but—”

Noah barked a laugh. Cold. Hollow. He sat up, hands bracing behind him, muscles tense.

“Help me?”

Noah didn’t yell.

Not yet.

His voice was low. Controlled. And awful.

“So what,” he said, eyes narrowing, “you’ve been sucking my dick out of pity? Thought you’d do a good deed and let the sad boy with the dying dad fuck it out of his system?”

A beat.

“Did it feel generous?”

Liam’s stomach dropped. “No! Jesus. That’s not—”

Noah stood. Pulled his shorts up like nothing else mattered.

His face was unreadable.

“This whole time,” he said, pacing a few slow steps toward the door, “you’ve been letting me pretend.” He shook his head, the laugh in his throat bitter. “You’re such fucking loser.”

“I wasn’t lying!” Liam sat up more. “I just—”

“What?!” Noah snapped, voice rising, hands clenching into fists. “You went digging through my life?” His voice dropped again, quiet. Violent. “Jesus, bro. What, yours wasn’t pathetic enough already?”

Liam’s face cracked. “That’s not fair—”

“Fair?” Noah turned, eyes blazing. “You think this is about fair? This isn’t your fucking business! You don’t know me. You don’t know shit!”

“I—I just wanted to be there for you like you’ve—”

Noah laughed. Ugly.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

He stepped forward. Closer. Voice low and razor-edged.

“I’m not a fucking charity case.”

He glanced between them with a sneer.

“Look at me. Look at you. What the fuck did you even think needed fixing?”

Liam flinched. “Noah—please—”

But Noah wasn’t done.

He stepped in—too close. Leaned in, breath hot.

“You wanna talk about pity?”

A beat.

“I pity you. For real.”

He straightened, eyes cold, scanning Liam like he was nothing.

“So desperate to matter, you let me fuck you just to feel close to something. You thought if I filled you up, I’d fill whatever’s missing in you too.”

Liam flinched like the words hit him physically.

Because they did.

Because he’d thought that. Maybe not in those words. Maybe not clearly.

But God, it was in there.

And now here it was—shoved in his face. Named. Weaponized.

He felt stripped open. Like Noah had peeled him apart and found every pathetic thing he’d tried to hide.

And it hurt. Bad.

Then Noah laughed again—low and vicious.

“You really are pathetic.”

Liam’s throat closed. “Stop—”

“No.” Noah’s voice was quiet again. But sharper. Crueler.

“You don’t get to act wounded now.”

His jaw locked. The next words came like a punch.

“You had no right.”

Liam blinked, heart pounding.

“Noah! I didn’t mean for it to happen!!”

“Don’t.” Noah’s voice cracked—just for a second. Gone before it registered.

“I don’t need saving. Especially not from a loser like you.”

He laughed again, but it came out wrong—bitter and loud.

“I’m not fucking broken! I’m doing just fine. I always do. I get what I want, I fuck who I want, I don’t need—”

He cut himself off.

His jaw tightened, chest heaving.

“I don’t need anything.”

The silence that followed was thick and uneven.

Noah shook his head once.

“What a fucking joke.” he said, voice quieter now.

Noah turned without another word, moving stiffly toward the door. His movements were clipped, mechanical.

Liam scrambled upright, the sheets tangled around his legs. “Noah—wait—please—”

Noah didn’t slow. Didn’t look back. He reached the living room in a few strides, yanked his hoodie off the couch. He shoved his arms through the sleeves like he couldn’t get out fast enough.

“Noah,” Liam tried again, voice cracking. “Can you just listen to me??”

His hand hit the doorknob.

He paused.

One beat. Two.

Then, still facing away, he said it—voice quiet. Empty.

“Stay the fuck out of my way.”

The door opened.

And he closed it gently. Like Liam wasn’t worth the noise.

He stood there, staring, heart ricocheting inside his ribs.

He didn’t chase him.

Didn’t yell.

Just stood, desperate, frozen in the middle of the wreckage.

His jaw shaking.

And to no one, he whispered:

“Noah… stay…”

---

If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.

To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

---