Fighting the urge to wrap around Noah so he didn’t feel as vulnerable, Kaj shifted his weight and inched his hand across the small space separating their hands on the railing. Their fingers touching was a tenuous connection, easily deniable if anyone saw them, but it was deliberate and soneeded.
Noah took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes briefly before plunging into Kaj’s gaze.
In this situation, Kaj would have normally distanced himself from the other person—he hated being the topic in lame gossip columns—but something unrecognizable and new had hatched among the fear and resentment rooted in his heart. He wanted to kiss him, to lick every corner of his mouth in a way that made him think of nothing else but how their tongues danced around each other. He wanted to help him forget, even if momentarily, all the distress eating at him from within.
Dragged by his own greed, Kaj brushed his fingertips along the lines etched on Noah’s upturned palm. He traced the lifeline, heart line, fate line, mapping constellations of a different sort while maintaining the appearance of two friends simply standing close in conversation.
“Your room or mine?”
Nineteen
Itwasoneinthe morning.
After the almost sixteen-hour trip from Brazil to Copenhagen, with a stopover in Portugal, Kaj had arrived at his penthouse. He’d started the laundry and ate something, trying to stay awake until the sky turned dark. But he couldn’t. The moment his head touched the armrest of the couch when he lay to take a break from house chores, he fell asleep.
And here he was now, five hours later, with his eyes open like an owl and a hyperactive mind going over all the things he had to do tomorrow—today—before flying to Austria for Nova Rock in three days. For once, it’d have been nice of Mads to stay here, fill his fridge and cook.
Rolling onto his side, Kaj grabbed his phone from the coffee table.
Only thirty minutes had passed since he woke up. He was starting to get annoyed. His body was tired, weighing much more than usual, but his brain refused to shut up.
At least if Noah were here, I’d have something to keep myself busy with.
Kaj bit the inside of his cheek, considering texting him. He’d been waiting for this moment to come so he didn’t have to see Artificial Suicide’s vocalist all the time. However, the idea of passing out while Noah was riding his dick seemed quite appealing.
What was the worst that could happen? That he was asleep and didn’t answer? That he told him to fuck off? Kaj could deal with that. There was also a third possibility, but he didn’t want to think about it.
Letting his drowsy, hazardous judgment guide him, Kaj texted Noah.
Hey
Nothing happened for a few minutes. Minutes he spent staring blankly at the screen because he didn’t remember what he was thinking about before. But then Noah was online.
Can’t sleep?
Apparently you can’t either
I passed out when I got home
So I’m fucked now
Would you like to be fucked in a different way?
What even?
If you’re willing to come over, I’ll get myself ready.
Kaj hesitated for a moment. His dick was always ready for a ride, but was he really that desperate and bored to drive to Noah’s house at this hour?
Send me the address
I’ll be there in an hour
Kaj got up and went straight into the shower. He should have done it when he got home, but at that moment, undressing felt like a monumental task. Now, bigger things were at stake.
Once he was done freshening himself up, Kaj ordered an Uber and made sure he had everything with him—phone, wallet, keys. His Ducati panigale v4 was a beautiful engineering masterpiece and would take him over to Noah’s faster than any cab, but he knew his reflexes were slow and he didn’t want to risk having an accident.
The thirty-five-minute ride felt like an eternity. Kaj leaned his head against the cool window, watching the city’s late-night streets pass in a blur under the faint glow of streetlights before they got out on the road and darkness swallowed everything around. His body hummed with anticipation despite his exhaustion, a peculiar type of energy that had nothing to do with jetlag and everything to do with where he was headed.
