“I don’t want to hurt you, Noam,” Lehrer murmured. “You’re ... important to me. And perhaps I’ve not done the best job of showing that lately.”
Noam’s hand lifted—he wasn’t sure if he was moving to push Lehrer away or draw him closer, and in the end he just grasped Lehrer’s wrist and did neither. Just kept him there, held in space, the backs of Lehrer’s fingers still brushing Noam’s stomach.
Lehrer’s cut-glass gaze traversed Noam’s face like he’d never seen him before. Like he couldn’t get enough of him. “After my brother died ... I didn’t think I’d ever care about anyone again. I didn’t want to need anyone, or anything. And I didn’t think I’d ever meet someone else who could be my equal.”
The words felt like water in cupped hands—powerful, lifesaving, but impermanent. Trickling away.
Lehrer touched Noam’s cheek, his mouth. “Tell me you won’t leave me,” he whispered, lips a scant inch from skin.
And as hard as Noam searched, he couldn’t sense Lehrer’s magic.
It wasn’t persuasion.
Now or never.Noam had to make a decision.
The hand on Lehrer’s wrist shifted, knocking Lehrer’s touch from his shirt. But it was just so Noam could move into the space left behind, rising up on the balls of his feet to press his mouth to Lehrer’s.
Lehrer’s inhale was quick, audible. He kissed Noam back without hesitation, grasping his hips with both hands and keeping him in place as he leaned closer, pressing their bodies together. And for a second it felt like it used to, both of them impatient and desperate for more; Lehrer’s teeth dragged along Noam’s lower lip, and dizziness answered in Noam’s mind, spun-sugar euphoria.
Lehrer pushed him back, driving them both down the hall toward his bedroom with Lehrer’s telekinesis already tugging his tie off from around his own neck, Noam’s hands lifting to draw the silk free and toss it aside.
The back room was pitch dark, although when Lehrer’s magic flared, the lamp answered—a dawn of golden light. Lehrer was breathless when he drew back, gaze drifting down the length of Noam’s body. He held Noam like he was fragile, like Lehrer had never realized how precious he was before now.
When he kissed Noam again, it was gentler, uncharacteristically so. Lehrer’s hands slid down to Noam’s hips and untucked his shirt, palms sliding up and along Noam’s bare skin.
“We’re so good together,” Lehrer said against Noam’s mouth as he tipped him back onto the bed. His weight on Noam’s chest made it hard to breathe; panic reared its ugly head and clawed at Noam’s insides as Lehrer kissed his cheek, his neck. “We belong together.”
No.
No, they didn’t.
Something in Noam snapped, a horrible tension and a worse release. He shoved Lehrer back with both hands, and Lehrer went easily, confusion shifting into his expression as Noam pitched upright, Noam’s knees drawing defensively toward his chest.
“What is it?” Lehrer said, concern creasing his brow as Noam struggled to take in a fresh breath. His nails dug in against his own shins, and suddenly everything in this room was a threat—the heaving shadows and soft mattress beneath him, the smell of cigarette smoke and the bladed lines of Lehrer’s face.
“I can’t,” Noam said.
He tasted salt. His lungs felt shredded and bloody.
Lehrer moved back, off the bed. Noam crawled forward after him, limbs weak and shaking as he pushed off the bed and onto his feet. Lehrer hadn’t moved—hadn’t said a word, the lamplight glinting off the whites of his eyes.
Noam dragged a hand back through his own hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice wavering. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Lehrer’s voice was low, barely audible but laced through with ice. “What did you say?”
He was so close, a slim cut of darkness silhouetted against the dim light. Noam took a reflexive step back—toward the door.
Lehrer moved in his wake, slow but inevitable.
“I don’t want this.” Another step. Noam’s veins were burning, and when he dug his fingers into his palms, his skin felt thin as paper. “I don’t want you, Calix. It’s over.”
“It’s not over.”
Noam’s breath fluttered in his throat. Suddenly his Faraday shield felt heavy in a way it never had before, like it took effort to maintain. Lehrer’s persuasion was a weight leaning against his mind, threatening to break through.
Noam was in the hall now, the living room to his back and Lehrer standing in the bedroom doorway, tall enough he consumed the whole length of the frame. Backlit, Noam couldn’t make out Lehrer’s face. Couldn’t see him at all.
