Chapter Text
It was on days like these that I hated my job. The house’s air conditioner sounded and felt like it was going to die at any minute, the coffee on my desk had been stale for an hour now, and the heat coming from the fan on the computer was not helping me deal with the imminent death of my beloved A/C and the very hot, humid air of summertime Lakeview, New Orleans.
Sure, working from home was wonderful; I got to relax, usually work when I felt like it, be with my boyfriend all day… have lots and lots of naughty playtime with my boyfriend… Or rather, that was how it used to be.
Not this week.
This week, the air conditioner was at wits end on one of the hottest summer days I’d ever had here and no one was coming out to fix it until all the other old, decrepit air conditioners could be fixed in the city. Not to mention, I was only a few small steps away from full-blown writer’s block, and the threat of kissing my contract with The Times – Picayune goodbye because of it.
And to top it off, I couldn’t even spend time with my adorable, little chéri, because this week, he was high on painkillers, recovering from a broken arm and wrist, fast asleep in the bedroom all the way on the other side of the house.
So here I was, staring blankly at my computer screen, typing, ‘I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know what I’m doing, I really don’t know what the hell I’m doing at all right now…’ over and over again.
I hate my job.
“David,” Noah’s voice called out timidly, from the bedroom. It was a refreshing distraction from the hum of the computer and constant sound of mindless typing.
“Yeah, babe,” I shouted back.
“Um, where are you,” he asked.
“I’m in my office… Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he answered quickly. “I just… I was just wondering; that’s all. Okay, well, have fun working!”
Huh? What was that all about, I thought to myself, staring back at my computer screen, curiosity piqued. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Uh huh…” Noah’s voice sounded a bit distracted, as if he was up to his usual mischief.
What the hell is that kid up to now? Carefully, quietly, I rose from my chair and crept down the hall to see what he could be doing. Upon turning the corner into the kitchen doorway, I found my answer, and had to cover my mouth to stop from laughing out loud and giving myself away.
Noah looked like a cat trying to walk on an electrical wire that could fry him at any minute, with his eyes squinted tightly shut, shoulders tense, as he quietly tiptoed into the kitchen from the living room entrance, feet never making a sound.
It was probably the cutest thing I’d ever seen!
After living with me for the past four months now, and after all the things we’d done together since he moved here, Noah was still shy and nervous about me seeing him scantly clad around the house. And assuming that he’d just been too lazy to put on pants – or just too damn hot – before sneaking out of his hiding place in the bedroom, he’d made sure I was too distracted with work to see him like this.
I didn’t know why though… I mean, sure, I’d made it perfectly clear on several occasions that the less Noah wore, the more irresistible he became to me, but I wasn’t so bad that he had to sneak around like this…
Okay, I lied.
I’m far worse.
And yes, I knew that taking advantage of his blindness was cruel, but at times like these, Noah could only blame himself for my actions, looking that cute in his tight, little, hideous, dull-orange t-shirt and tiny black briefs. The Sharpie-covered cast on his left arm made him look even cuter, with his little fingers poking out and nails painted, by me, when he fell asleep on the couch yesterday. I bet he still had no clue his nails were covered in enamel, and colored bright green. Adorable.
As his shirt rode up a little in the back when he reached to get a bowl from a high shelf – revealing the pretty little dimples on the small of his back – I knew there was no backing away from my plan.
He knelt down to open the fridge, searching for something with his hands, mumbling quietly to himself, “Where the hell did I put those stupid grapes?”
‘They’re on the second shelf, all the way in the back, behind the sodas,’ I provided a mental answer.
He stopped searching and feeling around for a second and turned his head in the direction of my office, eyes going straight past me, seeing nothing, a frown on his face. This would be about the time he’d yell for me to come help him out. However, we both knew that would not be happening right now. With an adorable pout on his lips and a curse under his breath, he went back to work digging around in the vegetable bins.
I exhaled deeply, instantly regretting it. At the noise, Noah froze and turned to face my direction again. It was creepy sometimes, how, even though I knew it wasn’t the case, it seemed like his senses compensated for the lack of sight with an over abundance of other ways of seeing, of perceiving his surroundings. I could tell from his tense and alert body language that he knew something was up, but couldn’t tell exactly what it was. He opened his mouth slightly, as if he were about to call for me again to make sure I was still were I was supposed to be, but changed his mind and slowly continued searching.
I kinda felt sorry for him, seeing Noah struggle like that to find something right in front of his face, patiently moving items around, feeling this and that, and still coming up empty-handed. Thankfully, after what seemed like ages of searching, he found the small carton of fruit.
I crept up silently behind him, wicked grin on my face, as he stood over the sink to wash off the grapes. It was the perfect opportunity for me to properly admire his ass and perfect legs on the way over. I grabbed his waist with a growl and watched him throw his precious grapes in the air in his shock, screaming.
For a split-second, he was truly terrified, not knowing whom his attacker was. It took him a moment to realize who’d grabbed him. “D-D-David,” he asked, as his voice squeaked. I nuzzled the nape of his neck, making him shiver.
“Yes, cupcake,” I answered lowly, squeezing him tightly.
He began to relax with an irritable sigh, “Dammit, David, what’s wrong with you? You scared me to death! And where the hell did my grapes go? I’ve been looking for them for like, thirty minutes!”
I picked one up off the countertop, and pressed it to his lips. “These grapes? And no, you were only looking for about fifteen minutes or so.” Before he could start yelling at me again, I pushed the grape past his open, angry lips and then picked up another to feed him, once again tickling it across his soft mouth, feeling a little envious of the fruit.
Hesitantly, he accepted it. “Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, “jerk.”
Ignoring him, my fingertips stayed at his lips a bit longer. I gave his shoulders a little massage. “So I’m in my office all day, typing my fingers off to put food on the table for both of us, and here you are, lazing about the house in your underwear, sucking the cold air out of the fridge, when you should have been in my office keeping me company,” I playfully chided, running my hands over his hips.
He sighed again. “I’m sorry, but I figured I’d just be in the way, again, like yesterday, so, I, ah… David? What… What are you doing?” His breath hitched.
“Hmm… oh nothing, why?”
“Can you take your hands out of my underwear please?”
“Now why would I want to do that, cupcake?” I slipped them down his legs quickly while he shyly scrambled for an answer.
“Be… Because, David, um, we’re in the kitchen?”
Not good enough. “But, babe, were we not in the kitchen this morning? What’s wrong with it now,” I asked, slipping off that faded orange t-shirt, wishing I could throw it away, it was so bad.
He tried to squirm away so I pressed him up against the counter, teasing still. “What’s wrong with being a little naughty in the kitchen?” My fingertips attacked his overly sensitized nipples, while I nipped his ear.
“David, I… I just…I just want my grapes, and… and perhaps to… take a nap, afterwards?” His shoulders began to relax, hands reaching out to pull me closer.
“Oh you can still have your grapes…” I nipped lightly at his shoulder, leaving little marks, hands taking on a mind of their own, “and your nap… later, though. Now, I want to take a quick break away from work with you.”
“But, David… I… you’ll… oh god. You just cleaned the… the kitchen from this morning, when we… ah! No, stop… yes! Right there, oh! Wait, no, I… I…”
His mindless rambling was making me hot, with so much exposed skin for me to claim with my free hand. Noah was most beautiful in times like these, when my assaults would leave him breathless, boneless, and so alive.
Noah was quickly reaching his peek. “Now, cupcake, I don’t want to have to clean the counter again, so if you make a mess I will punish you this time.”
“What!? That’s… That’s not fair! I never said that I… I… I… oh shit, David!”
riiiiiinng, riiiiiinng, riiiiining!
I almost jumped out of my skin at the noise as the phone rang so loud it shook the receiver off its mount. I think the phone ringing startle me more than anyone, especially since Noah was busy off on a lovely trip somewhere close to heaven right now. I let it ring long enough for him to be safely transported to the floor to catch his breath, before answering it, wondering, who calls the landline anymore these days?
My answer was wishing I hadn’t answered it at all, as an irritatingly haughty, feminine, old money, Southern voice instantly filled my ears like someone singing off key, “David? Why, it’s about time you picked up the phone, dear. I’ve been singing to the voicemail on your cell phone for the past ten minutes now.”
Okay, fine. So I did deserve to pay for praying on the defenseless and vision-impaired, but it didn’t have to be right now! Especially not by her.
“Hello, mother.” I should have dragged Noah back to my office, where the caller-ID was in plan sight, rather than going crazy here in the kitchen with the antique, ‘it-comes-with-the-house’ phone, with only five visible numbers and missing dial.
“Sugar, what on Earth have you been doing all this time, shouldn’t you be working,” she asked, trying to sound playfully condescending, like I was skipping school.
‘Oh, nothing, I was just happily jerking off my boyfriend – whom you hate – over the kitchen sink,’ was what I wanted to say, but instead, decided to take Noah’s constant advice to try to be civil with the woman. “I was just taking a break with Noah in the kitchen for a while,” I stated. I suppose just mentioning the his name would have to do for now. It was only fair; it was completely idiotic and selfish to dislike him when she and father had never even met him.
“Oh… is that so? Hm.” She got quiet.
“Oh, he’s doing fine; I’m glad you asked,” I chimed, sarcastically. “His arm is healing pretty quickly, and the cast should be off in another week or so; let’s just hope he doesn’t have any more accidents before then. I swear, even after being here so long, every low-lying piece of furniture still seems to have it out for poor Noah—”
Mother cleared her throat obnoxiously loud, cutting me off. She was far too happy to change the subject. “You know that girl you dated for so long in high school – oh what was her name, Caroline? – Well, she’s back in town this week visiting her family, and she asked about you today. I gave her your number; you two should talk.”
“Is that why you called?” I should have known.
She tried to sound offended, “Well, of course not, dear. That’s just silly. Your father and I haven’t talked to you in almost a whole week, and I wanted to see how you were doing.” Her tone changed, “However, I will say, from a mother to her son, it would be nice if you did talk to Caroline. The two of you were so precious together, you need to spend some time with her again; you know, rekindle the old flame, start over new…”
“Mother, did you forget that Carrie came out a long time before I did that she was gay? Or of the fact that I’m most definitely gay, too? And we never dated; she was never my girlfriend.”
“David… let’s be honest with ourselves. You know that girl was confused then. Besides, I’m sure if you asked her, she’d be happy to be in a nice, loving relationship with you again. I mean, we both know your… infatuation with that… boy is just a byproduct of going to a liberal, art school for a college degree,” she thought that was amusing, “You’ll snap out of it just like Caroline will when she talks to you again.”
For a moment I was speechless. As many smiles and laughs as I’d shared with this woman as a child, she was and always would be a demon. “Mother, how many times do I have to tell you that Noah and I are—”
“No, you are not! Whatever lies and perversions that boy has put in your head, you should be listening to me, not him. I’m your mother, David, and I know what’s right for you!” She paused for a moment, calming down, before her voice turned hushed and sympathetic. “Besides, honey, he’s blind. You don’t need to be wasting all your time taking care of a… a cripple—”
I hung up the phone. Well, actually I slammed the cracked handset violently back onto the receiver, jamming and breaking another piece belonging to the missing dial. I counted to ten. “I swear that woman won’t even give me a chance to forget why I hate her so much; she just insists on reminding me every time she opens her mouth!”
I was alone in the kitchen. “Noah?”
By now, Noah had not only recovered, but had redressed, put on jeans, and was sitting on the couch in the living room. His face was buried in his hands as he hunched over his knees. Perfect. Screw what the scientists and doctors say; that kid had super-human hearing, and had more than likely made out every vile word my mother had said to me.
I quietly walked over. “Noah? Are you okay?”
He didn’t remove his hands or sit up, just nodded, “Uh huh,” he sniffled. His voice sounded like he’d been crying for a while now.
“Baby, look, no, listen… Forget about what she says, okay? None of that matters. What’s important is that I love you and I would never leave you for anyone else. Especially not a lesbian, I mean… urgh.”
“But… she’s right,” he answered softly, tears running down his face, “You do deserve someone else, even if not that girl, then at least someone who can take care of themselves… and won’t keep breaking your furniture. Someone you won’t have to keep constantly putting off work to take them to the hospital every time they fall over a damn coffee table. That wouldn’t even happen if… if I wasn’t… if I could…”
“Baby, stop. My mother is an idiot, a heartless idiot. I love you. No one else. That’s it. I wouldn’t care if you only had one leg and three arms—”
Noah frowned, “Yes, you would.”
“Okay, true. But, Noah,” I knelt in front of him, removing his hands, kissing away the tears on his face, “I love you, and neither one of us is going anywhere. Well, hopefully away from my parents, together. Noah, listen to me, forget what she said; I know what I want and you’re sitting right in front of me. When you’re hurt, I want to be the one taking care of you, whatever you need and want, I want to be the person giving it to you; no one else. You’re vital to me, Noah. And I love everything about you. To hell with what my mother thinks… Screw her!”
He wiped at his eyes, sniffling again. “Ew. I don’t want to touch her.”
I chuckled, cringing, “Yeah, that did sound gross, sorry.” I sat beside him on the couch, wrapping my arms around him tightly. We sat together for a long while in silence, each in our own thoughts.
Finally I couldn’t take it any more. “Well, this just sucks.”
Noah lifted his head from off my shoulder, looking tired. “Huh?”
“I manage to get you all hot and bothered and of course mother had to call and ruin all our fun.”
Noah pepped up a little more. “Well, I had fun…” he blushed scarlet.
“Did you, now?” I quirked an eyebrow. He ducked shyly behind my shoulder at the tone in my voice. “Well I could have sworn, from the sounds you were making and how you kept telling me you didn’t want it, that you hadn’t had any fun at all.”
He didn’t say more, still hiding behind my shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around my waist.
“Well, in that case I’d like to finish where we left off.” I stood up and happily started removing my clothes.
“David,” Noah asked warily, “what are you doing?”
“What do you think?” I tossed my shirt in his lap.
He picked it up and knew exactly what I had in mind. “But, what about your work?”
“What about it?”
“Well, it’s not done.”
“Neither are you.”
Before he could speak again or even think of running away, I grabbed him around his waist, and hauled him off to the bedroom, where there was a nice, little caller-ID… right beside the bed.