Jet
With Peyton’s help,I managed to hang at the barbecue for a solid couple of hours, actually relaxing with Noah and his friends. Mainly, I just stood there quietly, taking it all in. But I did get Noah talking about his architectural work, which was pretty fascinating, and his friend River and I got talking about the European cities we loved, and I even found a chance to dive deep on local music with a few members of Jolt.
By the time I left, I was feeling pretty optimistic. Fucking cheery, in fact. Sure, there was a voice in the back of my head, complaining that I couldn’t pursue what I wanted to with Peyton. My hot bear was winning me over more and more, as I got to know him, and the possibility of blowing his mind in bed was damn distracting.
But I’d already had plenty of great sex in my life, far more than my fair share. What I needed now was my brother.
Midway through the week, I was chilling at my apartment when I decided to text Noah. I had a few projects underway, which meant that the dining room table and my desk were both overflowing with mixers, drum machines, external hard drives, loose records, and the rest of my poorly organized equipment. Like whenever I got deep in a project, I had some old house music thumping on the speakers, and I crossed over to turn it down so I could focus better.
Hey Noah. Hope you’re having a good week, I typed out, then sent it quickly before I changed my mind.
I rubbed the top of my head, let out a grunt, and then headed into the kitchen. I busied myself making a protein shake and finally dealing with the dishes that had piled up. I enjoyed letting things spiral into a chaotic mess when I was focused on my work, but having my place in disarray didn’t actually serve me. My impulse was always to ignore one task in order to focus on a more fulfilling one, and since electronic music satisfied my constant craving for dopamine better than anything else, I had to train myself to turn away from the keyboard long enough to deal with the boring shit.
My phone buzzed on the counter, yanking me from my thoughts, and I saw Noah’s name flashing.
Yeah, my week is pretty good. Working a nightclub design now. It made me think of you.
Hell yeah, thinking of me, that was progress.That’s cool,I replied and added the emoji of the disco dancer.Hope I get to see how it turns out.
I like the challenge of designing with sound in mind. I just can’t figure out where to place you DJs, haha.
I took a swig from my protein shake. Now we were really talking. Not only did I have enthusiastically specific ideas about the placement of DJ booths, I’d also spent more time considering the acoustics of large spaces than just about anyone else I knew.
And it made me smile to know that Noah was sitting at his firm, working on those same problems now and actually having a good time doing it.
If you want some expertise, just holler. I’m available.
He took a second to reply.Is that a real offer?Then a second later, he texted again.Actually, never mind. I’m handing it off to Peyton this afternoon.
I rubbed my hand over my face. It felt like when Peyton and I got stuck in the garage. There I was, pushed into his life without intending, but not minding it a damn bit.
No problem, I can chat with Peyton. I want to check out the firm anyway. How’s 3:00?
* * *
I pulled my headphones off as I exited the elevator. Brown and Young Architecture was located in a shorter building, like a warehouse, four or five stories tall, but it offered a spectacular view over downtown Pittsburgh through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I’d changed into a white dress shirt, the only one I had, which I wore tucked into my jeans. When I pushed the door to the office open, I was surprised at how quiet it was. There were a couple of women, bent over a long drafting table in the middle of the open space, and glass walls that separated the main space from some side offices. Hanging up all over the place were framed blueprints and oversized photographs of buildings, I assumed ones that their team had designed, while track lighting crisscrossed the high ceiling.
Damn. Noah was as successful as I’d always imagined he would be.
“Oh, hello,” a young man with a wide smile said as he quickly approached, then took a seat behind the desk at the entrance. “Do you have an appointment?”
“I’m here to see…” I trailed off. Was I here to see Noah or Peyton? Both?
“Jet. You made it.”
I glanced up to see Peyton, who offered me a short wave. He stood there in a collared blue shirt, topped off with a pair of navy suspenders. It drew my attention to the solid, powerful shape of his body, which was thick in all my favorite places, from his broad shoulders to his sturdy, strong thighs.
“Sir?” the man at the desk asked.
“Uh, thanks,” I said with a gesture to Peyton. “Just here to see my friend.”
My friend? What the fuck was that?
I crossed through the quiet office and met Peyton with a firm handshake. He kept his dark beard nice and trimmed, and I noticed how precise the lines of it were, a nice compliment to his square glasses. “Hey, good to see you.”
“Yeah, thanks for coming in. Noah got pulled into a meeting, but here, why don’t you come to my office?”
