this is pretty fluffy
felt like we needed it

- 27 -

The carpet might as well have been torn down to the cement from how long I was pacing back and forth in our room. Noah sat on the bed with his hands in his lap, listening to my mindless grumbling about the scene that'd just unfolded.

"What if it was me? Would he have stopped it if it was me?"

"It wasn't you."

"But what if it was? Is he really that evil?"

"I don't think he's evil."

"Okay, not evil. Just a dick."

"Definitely a dick."

"Was he the reason we cut contact when we were younger?"

"I cut contact. Not you."

"Well, I could have tried harder."

"You tried plenty."

"I just don't understand why he'd do that."

"He was just trying to protect you."

After nearly forty-five minutes of back and forth, I stopped pacing. Noah watched me curiously. I was feeling somewhat worn out from voicing my thoughts and actually receiving responses back for once. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him. "Protect me from what? I wasn't the one that needed protecting."

Noah stood up and slid his arms around my waist. I felt my shoulders relax as he placed his ear to my shoulder and hugged me. For someone who was an accidental fray in my relationship with my dad, he was in good spirits. Normally he'd shut down and try to push me away at a time like this. Maybe he knew that this time, I was the one that needed comfort. After all, it wasn't like it was his intention to slice the rope connecting me and my father. It was bound to break soon.

"Think about it, Theo. If you were him and you walked in on a fifteen-year-old boy sitting on a grown man's lap with a bottle of Henny to his lips, you'd think the worst, too. Not everybody is as forgiving as you. His first thought was probably, like, 'There's got to be something seriously wrong with that kid,' and then, 'What can I do to prevent my son from turning out like that?'"

I shook my head as my fingers subconsciously massaged his nape. "Not a single person in that room would have left you with him," I said confidently. "Had it been my mom to see it, you would have been—"

"Theo. Relax and hold me."

My mouth shut, but my mind didn't stop. It was true. If I had been the one to find them that day, David MacNeil would have been in prison. Or, if the justice system failed, blackballed from Hollywood, hopefully divorced, and moved continents with a name change. I wouldn't have given up, just like I wasn't planning to now. Now I had a chance to make things right for Noah. To let him bloom.

I tightened my grip on my beautiful boy. For once, I'd have liked to stop thinking about all the ways the world screwed him over. The list seemed to keep growing with every passing hour.

He smelled like the shampoo Lina loaned us. I pressed a kiss into his hair and he turned his head, meeting my lips for the third time tonight. We stood there and kissed. I tried to translate all of my frustrations and apologies and promises with my tongue, holding his jaw lightly as if he were to crumble under my touch.

"Should we go back out there?" he asked when we pulled away to breathe.

"We don't have to."

Noah smiled, kissing my cheek quickly before separating our bodies. "I think we should. Your mom is almost drunk enough to do karaoke with me," he said. It was the first time I'd seen a genuine grin in a while. It was contagious.

"No more Elton John, I beg of you."

He giggled to himself, grabbing a hoodie from his bag and tugging it over his head. The hood rested atop his curls, making him look far too sweet and cuddly. Without warning, I tackled him onto the bed. Noah shouted in protest, but he was soon smothered by my love. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into my chest, one leg pinning him down. He was laughing and it was melodic enough that I felt the urge to harmonize.

"Come on, I'm still hungry," he said between laughs. "And I wanna sing Elton John with your mom."

I turned into dead weight, making him groan loudly. He tried to push me away, but I only sank further on top of him. "Tell me you love me and I'll let you go," I said, my voice muffled by the top of his hood covering my mouth.

"I never would—it back if I knew—going to—annoying about—" he said, but his words grew increasingly unintelligible as I pressed my weight down further. He giggled when I poked my fingers into his neck, but stopped to get serious again. "God, Theo. You're—suffocate me!"

"Say it."

He used both of his hands to tug my arm down so his mouth was uncovered. "I love you. Get the fuck off of me," he cried and I rolled off of him, a grin of satisfaction on my face. Noah gasped dramatically, sprawling out on the bed with his chest heaving. "You're such a baby."

I turned onto my side and, with the smile still on my face, I batted my eyelashes. "But I'm your baby?"

When he turned his head and rolled his eyes, I felt a sense of pride. It took what felt like ages and it wasn't without struggle, but I was finally the one to make him smile. His reluctant eyes and rosy cheeks were my doing. Maybe one day I could call him mine. Really mine. Maybe one day we could live in a house like this with Chester and we could invite everyone for pizza ourselves. I let out a soft breath of a laugh at the thought.

I got up from the bed and grabbed both of his hands. When he was to his feet, I kissed him once on the lips. "If my mom's not feeling it, I'll be your Kiki Dee," I said and he gasped in delight.

As it turned out, Mom was feeling it. She was also feeling the three and a half glasses of wine she'd apparently chugged after Dad left, according to Lina. I followed my sister into the kitchen while Ryan helped Kailey connect her phone to the TV. Noah was hyping my mother up for the first karaoke song while I started tying up the trash bag. Lina was bagging up the last few slices of vegan pizza for Kailey to take to the hotel with her.

"I'm sorry," I said. The trash bag sunk back into the can after I tied it, similar to how I'd felt. Lina collected the empty pizza boxes and pushed them towards me. "I really didn't mean to make a big scene."

She smiled small. "I started it. I had no idea he'd say those things," she said, but her expression dimmed. "Poor Noah."

It felt like one of those familiar things that came with having a sibling. The way she said, 'Poor Noah,' without asking first how I felt about my father's disapproval. She knew I'd rather not talk about it; not now, not ever. It was how we handled things as a family, with spitting insults at each other during fights being the exception. I liked that she worried about him first. More people should.

I shook my head. "I told him I love him."

Lina gasped and I met her eyes. The familiarity of her hazel gaze struck me this time, seemingly frenzied at what I'd said. "Seriously?" she asked. I nodded, unsure of why she was reacting like that. "Did you mean it?"

"Of course I did," I scoffed. But then the gravity of my words hit me and I slumped against the counter. "That's kind of weird, huh?"

"To see my big brother finally experiencing feelings for someone like a normal human? Yeah, pretty weird. But . . . it kind of suits you."

I thought about that while I took the trash to the curb. I'd never told someone that I loved them and meant it—other than my family and Dustin and, though I'd never admit it, even Joey. It was easy to detach. Even when I was dating Kelsi, I didn't feel drawn to her in the sense that I needed her to survive. We never said we loved each other. Granted, it wasn't a real relationship, but it was the closest thing I'd had.

Love felt like an empty, surface level emotion. I loved my fans. I loved drinking Kahlúa with coffee. I loved it when Chester kneaded on my chest like a little bread baker. But to love someone in the way I loved Noah felt like so much more.

In my mind, it felt like I was the hungriest I'd ever been. It was a frightening, desperate desire that reared its head every time Noah was near. I wanted him under my skin and in my lungs, nestled in my hair and between my fingers. Close didn't feel close enough. Even with my cock buried inside of him in our deepest form of intimacy yet, I wanted more. It was primal. I felt the need to leave my mark on him and shield him from the number of sick people who would take advantage of him in a heartbeat.

But I couldn't begin to understand it. The protective nature made sense, but every thing else scared me. It was too new, too fresh. Maybe I'd never get used to it.

"Woo-hoo. Nobody knows it," came Mom and Noah's voices as I neared the front door. I smiled to myself.

I could definitely get used to it.

Kailey was clapping along from her spot on the couch so I sat beside her. Noah was dancing with my mom and held her hand over her head to spin her. I couldn't ignore the warmth in my chest upon seeing his big smile, completely unaware of how it affected my entire body.

I watched with hearts for eyes. Mom caught me looking and danced her way over to me. She held her hands out and I took them, chuckling as she pulled me up off the couch. We started dancing together, our bodies moving and grooving to the 70s rhythm and she delivered me to Noah. He beamed at me, singing, "Don't go breakin' my heart," so I sang back, "I won't go breakin' your heart." It turned into a group number and soon, Kailey was up dancing with us, too. I pulled Noah into me with a hand on his waist. None of it was graceful, the movements more silly than anything, but I felt on top of the world.

Karaoke turned into a night of drinking, dancing, and laughing. Lina brought out the good stuff—homemade margaritas and virgin one for Noah.

After Mom went home and Kailey called a ride back to the hotel, Noah was taking care of me since I went a bit overboard on the margaritas. I fell out of the dining room chair when Ryan made me laugh too hard and bumped my head on the hardwood.

"Easy goes it, superstar," Noah teased, pushing me into bed. I fell face first, my body feeling like it weighed a million pounds until I felt the cushiony mattress under me. "How are you so drunk?"

I said my reply into the blankets, "I was drinking from the pitcher."

He took off my shoes and socks before flipping me onto my back, fingers starting with the buttons of my jeans. I smirked, folding my hands under my head and staring at him through blurry eyes. Noah rolled his eyes, tugging my pants down and over my thighs, then finally off completely. "Don't get any ideas," he laughed as he pulled me up into a sitting position to take my shirt off.

"Too late," I grinned when my head was free from being trapped between my sleeves.

When I was stripped down to my boxers, Noah took his own clothes off. I grabbed his wrist when he started climbing onto the bed and tugged him onto my lap. I was almost certain he wouldn't take things too far with me in a drunken state, but I'd take the kisses if he'd allow it. He didn't make any moves to get off of me, which encouraged me to flatten my palms against his thighs and lean into him.

"I'm not having sex with you," he said as I expected.

"Just want kiss," I muttered against his skin, my lips on his chin and traveling upwards.

Noah snorted, ducking his head to catch my mouth with his. I tightened my grip on his soft thighs. With his hands in my hair, he kissed me sweet. He tasted like margarita mix and the cigarette we shared on the front porch before my spill. My hands slid around his back and pulled him closer, never willing to let him go. Noah pulled my head back by my hair and looked at me.

I liked his eyes on me. As a performer, I was used to feeling watched. It never fazed me. But when I was under the scrutinizing, emotional gaze of none other than my Noah, I felt seen. I felt nervous. Like I had something to lose if I blinked too slow or smiled too eagerly.

He looked at me like his mind was running a mile a minute, eyes darting to every square inch of my face like a valuable piece of literature he needed to memorize. I stared back with half-lidded eyes, taking in his kiss-swole lips and flushed cheeks.

"I love you," I murmured.

"You're one of those," he said with a small smile.

I lazily furrowed my eyebrows. "One of whats?"

He didn't respond, only pressed his lips to mine again. I swallowed the kiss and dragged my fingers up his back, settling with tracing the lines of his shoulder blades. In my drunken stupor, I wished we could sink into the mattress together and never see the light again. To never face our problems or the spotlight or anything. It would be so easy to just disappear with only ourselves to worry about.

Eventually, we were horizontal, fingers mingling between us as we kissed and whispered into the dark. I asked him questions as they popped into my mind and he answered honestly. Noah laughed when I slurred my words and I pouted when he'd dodge a kiss.

"Is it too soon to say I want you for forever?" I asked.

He was quiet for a moment. I could hear my heartbeat thumping in my chest. "Yes," he finally said. "But I know you mean it, so I don't mind."

I wondered how many men told Noah that they wanted him for forever but were lying. How could you not want to see that smile every day? Just to fall asleep knowing he loved me back was enough to keep me satisfied for the next year or two. I tangled a hand into his hair, soft curls moving with my fingers as I massaged his scalp. I could smell him all over me.

"I wrote a song about you."

"You did?"

I smiled. "Yeah. It's called Loophole."

It was quiet while he let that settle with him. I stared at him in the dark, though I couldn't quite distinguish his features, I could see his eyes on me, glowing in the moonlight slipping in the crack of the blinds. "Is it about loving someone too fucked up to fix?" he asked quietly, fingers tapping lightly on my jaw.

"No," I whispered. "It's about loving someone that tried their hardest to shut me out, but I found a way in anyways. A loophole."

He let out a breathy laugh. "'Cause I don't deserve it."

"You were conditioned to believe that."

"Not necessarily," he said, adjusting himself so his arm was tucked under his pillow. I waited patiently for him to elaborate. "I used to feel like I deserved much more love than I actually received, but when you are at your lowest, your mind has a way of showing how you really feel about yourself. I took my insecurities and flipped them onto other people and pretty much dug my own grave. Then it was mine, and mine only, to sit alone and grieve my own self." He was starting to sound like he was dozing off, his voice getting deeper and he spoke slower.

I closed my eyes. "You think those people aren't grieving, too?"

"Hm . . .?"

"When you push people away without reason, you leave behind the version of yourself that they loved to begin with. In the moment, it probably feels like, 'If they can't love me like this, then they don't deserve me,' but that's not how it works."

Noah reached forward and grabbed my hand, then cuddled it into his chest like a teddy bear. "None of that matters. Those people either forgot about me or hate me."

I reached over and grabbed his face suddenly, squeezing his cheeks and bringing my face near to his. I heard him let out a gasp, startled by my sudden grip. "Just because you keep saying it, doesn't mean it's true, Noah. I promise you if you reach out, they'll reply. You're one easy son of a bitch to love, you hear me?" I asked. He nodded his head, squishy cheeks and all. I pressed a kiss onto his mouth and released his face from my hand.

"Fine. I believe you. But I'm not ready to do that."

"That's okay," I said, replacing the space between us. "So is it okay if I sing your song at my next show?"

He chuckled in the low light. "I can't wait to hear it."