Noah shook his head against him, pushing Zeke’s wristband down. “I don’t—” he choked out, between wheezing short breaths, “want anyone else.” Noah grabbed Zeke’s hand and squeezed hard as he fought to take control of his breathing.
Many tense minutes passed. While attempting to sooth Noah by rubbing his arms, he wrestled with whether to call one of the others anyway, but finally, Noah’s breathing became more regular. He still clutched at his chest like it pained him, however. He needed to continue to calm down in a safe, and preferably dry, place.
“I think we need to get out of this shower before we shrivel into prunes,” Zeke said.
Noah laughed weakly and let Zeke drag him to his feet.
Thankfully, there was no one around to witness them marching through the corridors sopping wet on the journey to Noah’s room. Wolf was waiting by the door, his sleeping form curled into a ball. Noah dropped to his knees, gathering the dog up in his arms and squeezing him tight. “Good boy. Such a good boy,” he murmured into his fur.
Zeke coughed, not wanting to push their luck with being discovered in this state. Noah swiped his wristband to unlock the door, and they hurried inside. The chaotic mess from the other day remained unchanged, and Zeke nearly stumbled over several items as he traversed the room.
Noah fell straight onto the floor to continue to fawn over Wolf, leaving Zeke to find dry clothes for them. Most of Noah’s laundry was piled into heaps in the corner, but he found two t-shirts and underwear. Once he’d changed, the too-large clothes hanging off him, he turned his attention back to Noah, who was now shivering in his damp layers.
He tugged at Noah’s hoodie, peeling it off for him. When Noah was almost fully undressed, he sighed, and went to complete the job himself, facing the corner.
When Noah turned, Zeke pointedly focussed on his damp hair, that fell in loose black curls around his face, rather than his bare torso. Something distinctly more Noah-shaped now inhabited him.
“I’m so sorry about all that,” Noah said, as if he’d just spilled some tea.
“Don’t be sorry.” Zeke paused, fiddling with his shirt. Questions circled around his mind, but he was unsure of how much to pry. “Are you feeling okay now?”
Noah’s mouth twisted into a subtle grimace. “I’ll be fine. I’ve had panic attacks before. That was a pretty short one, thanks to you.”
Zeke, leaning against the wall, ducked his gaze. Noah crossed the room to join him, taking his face in both his hands, tilting his head up.
“Stay with me tonight?” Noah’s pleading eyes sent his stomach into somersaults.
Zeke swallowed. “Of course.” As if he’d say anything else.
This time, there were no pretences about someone taking the bed and the other the floor. Zeke slid across the narrow bed, pushed his back against the wall, then held out his arms. The look Noah gave him before slotting in next to him took his breath away. How had this person—thisman—invaded his heart, mind and body so completely, in a way nobody had ever done so before? He ran his hand down Noah’s bare arm, marvelling at the tsunami of goosebumps he caused.
“I don’t know if—” Noah broke off with a sigh. “I don’t know if I can lead Squad E anymore. It’s… killing me.”
Zeke couldn’t see a Squad E without Noah as its leader, its glue, its heartbeat. “Everyone knows you’re doing the best you can.” Zeke pressed a kiss into the back of his head. “But if you want to step down, people will understand.”
A few silent minutes went by, punctuated only by their rhythmic breathing, gradually becoming synced. Light snoring drifted up from the floor—Wolf was sound asleep on the rug. Tension seeped out of Zeke’s muscles as Noah lay calm and still beside him.
Zeke moved his hand up to the back of Noah’s head, parting his hair as he examined his scalp. He found a tiny bump of swollen flesh, and Noah gasped as he pushed it. He let go and grabbed Noah’s hands, running his thumb over the patches of skin that he knew housed small indent scars from his nails. “The next time you want to hurt yourself, please come and find me. Or anyone. But I’ll be there for you. Anytime. Always.”
Noah pushed his face into the pillow.
“Hey. This is important. Also, you should go to see Doctor Herbert tomorrow.” Zeke squashed back irrational waves of jealousy, locked them in a box. Noah’s health was far more important.
“I will.” Noah turned in Zeke’s arms, lifting his leg to hook it around Zeke’s leg. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he said, before pressing his lips to Zeke’s. Zeke trembled as they became a tangled mess of sheets and limbs and pillows.
Noah pulled away. “I want to…” he began, groaning as he sifted Zeke’s hair with his fingers, tugging lightly. He would happily have him do that all night. “But…”
“Shh.” Zeke pressed a finger to Noah’s lips. “I know. This is enough. This is more than enough.”
They were silent again for a while before Noah said, “Can I tell you about Splat? Stories from before you got here?”
More tears prickled Zeke’s heavy eyes. How would the squad ever recover from this great, indescribable loss? How could Noah have endured this so many times before and still carried on day after day?
“Of course,” he said. “Tell me.”
twenty-three
Zeke
