I grabbed his candy and was back in a flash.
I used to tease Noah when we were kids about him never wanting something more exciting—a Kit Kat or Twix or Reese’s or whatever—but nope. My boy had always insisted on plain, pure chocolate, always giving me all the good stuff from his trick-or-treating stash at Halloween every year, no matter how many times I’d tried to convince him to expand his horizons.
But that one-bar loyalty thing he had going on? I didn’t exactly hate it. There was a lot to be said for being sprung on just one thing and loyal to it forever, you know?
“You got me a Hershey’s bar?” Noah asked as I started to unwrap it, his eyes welling up all over again.
“’Course I did,” I said, keeping my voice all calm and soothing and shit even though I wasn’t sure why a fucking chocolate bar was triggering more waterworks, because what, like Iwasn’tgonna think of him when I grabbed something for myself? Pretty sure I was incapable of that.
I was always thinking of Noah.
Fuckingalways.
I broke off a piece of the chocolate, but then changed my mind before I handed it over, rubbing it against his lips instead. “Open up for me, baby.”
He hesitated for a split second, eyes locked onto mine, then did it. Parted his lips and let me push the candy inside. Closed his mouth and worked his cheeks, sucking instead of chewing, just like he always did.
“That’s right,” I said, rubbing a spot of chocolate off his upper lip with my thumb. “Just like that. So damn good for me.”
He almost smiled at that. No dimples, but at least his mouth quivered upward a little as he looked at me with those big, wet eyes I’d fucking walk through fire for, so I was definitely counting it as a win.
I took a breath. “Okay, Noe. Now tell me what happened.”
Fuck.
Mistake.
I clearly should’ve given him more chocolate first or something, because instead of doing what I’d just told him to, his eyes spilled over again, and I… Jesus Fucking Christ on the Cross. I couldn’t stand it. The hopeless look that came over his face fuckingguttedme.
Noah was my best friend. I’d never been able to stand it when he was hurting, going all the way back to the very first day we’d met—him on the ground with his pants ripped over the knee after some first-grade bully had thought they’d get their jollies by tripping him, and me setting that bully straight because the sight of little Noah’s tears had wrecked something inside me, even back then—but this was different. This wasmore.
“Noah,” I said, running my hand through his hair like the huge motherfucking sap that I guess I’d become now. Maybe a side effect of having seen how fucking perfect he’d looked, covered in my cum? Whatever. Not important. Just like the gay thing, it was part of the new us now, and fuck anyone who couldn’t deal. “You gotta tell me what’s going on, babe,” I said, since that partwasimportant. “You’re fucking killing me here.”
His breath hitched. Then—
“I’m leaving,” he blurted.
He… What now?
I swallowed hard, then tugged on his hair, forcing him to look up at me. “What was that?” I rasped, my throat suddenly tighter than a virgin’s pussy.
“I’m… I’m leaving,” Noah repeated, his lower lip trembling like it was about to break. “I’m leaving you, Gage.”
I blinked, frozen in place for a second.
Fact:I’m leavingwere two words that did not and would never sound right coming out of his mouth, especially not followed by “you,” meaning me, and relevant to Noah, who I needed like air. So, obviously, he was fucking mistaken.
Case closed. Full stop. Comment section closed.
And therefore—
“No,” I corrected him. “You’re not.”
He pulled away from me again and wiped at the tears on his face, still looking up at me. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to, but they said I have to go home after the end of the semester,” he whispered.
Home?Thiswas his home now. With me.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Not happening, bro.”
