Being around Darien was dangerous, but Noah, now that he was looking into that handsome face, could no more make himself stay away then he could chop his own arm off. He’d tried, after all. For almost an entire year, he’d tried.
“Darien,” Noah spoke, his quiet voice causing his former best friend to go instantly silent. “Take me somewhere we can be alone.”
It was strangely easy to say the words, even as daring as they were. Noah had never said them to anyone before, had never demanded intimacy, but they spilled out of him without any effort at all, which shouldn’t imply that he wasn’t absolutely terrified, quivering inside as he waited for Darien to laugh in his face, to tell him that there was no way that that was going to happen.
Darien didn’t laugh. Instead, his eyes widened just slightly, almost imperceptibly, and then he nodded. They released each other and then walked, side by side, arms brushing each other as they moved, toward the exit of the airport which led to the enormous parking lot.
* * *
California was too damn hot. And it smelled wrong, and it felt wrong, in a thousand little ways that Noah would have been hard-pressed to even put his finger on. It wasn’t Boston, that’s what it came down to. It was newer, cleaner, shinier, warmer, and maybe it was nice, but it wasn’t his home.
Darien led them right to his car, and Noah didn’t know exactly what he’d been expecting. Maybe a limousine, complete with a uniformed driver who would hold the door open for them? He knew that Darien was a big deal, but how much had Darien changed?
Not as much as he might have thought, maybe, because there was no stretch limo waiting for them, no crowd of photographers trying to snap pictures of Darien. Instead, the other man led him to a perfectly normal car, and Noah knew absolutely nothing about cars, but this one would have fit in in any city in the world and not made a huge impact.
It was a bit of a surprise to him. Darien was probably raking in the money hand over fist, at this point. He could have afforded a lot more than this. And he couldn’t help but notice, too, that Darien had dressed in a way that seemed designed to blend in, to not draw attention to himself.
Noah climbed in and glanced over at Darien thoughtfully. This man was an enigma to him. He dropped out of school, which Noah couldn’t see himself doing no matter what was offered in return, but the siren’s song of being rich and famous had led Darien to do it. And now, he had that fame, and he wasn’t even seeking to capitalize on it? What did that all mean?
If the band kept growing in popularity, Noah could easily foresee a time when no amount of dressing down would be able to keep Darien safe from scrutiny. Where his handsome face would grace the tabloids every week, where everything that he said and did would be dissected for inspection by the pitiless eye of the public.
The question simmered in his brain and rose up in his throat, but he didn’t let himself ask it. But he was suddenly very aware that Darien’s one year contract would be up in less than a month, in just a few weeks, and what did that mean for Darien? Was he going to go back to school, or would he sign again? Having tasted this glory, could he give it up?
Noah didn’t know the answer to that question, and he sighed and settled back, turning his gaze from Darien to the window, looking out at the scenery. California was beautiful, but it was so strange to him that it might as well have been another planet.
All of those palm trees everywhere. And off to the side, he could catch a glimpse of the cerulean, ever-shifting waves of the Pacific Ocean, which was not the same as the waters he was used to. None of it was the same.
Darien was chattering away, and just like in the old days, Noah had let it become background noise. He was listening just enough so that if Darien said something important, he could respond, but otherwise, Darien spoke like others breathed, it was just how he was.
What Noah noticed very clearly, then, was when Darien stopped speaking, and the silence echoed between them. They stopped at a red light, and Darien reached for Noah, taking his hand and squeezing the fingers lightly.
“It was weird for me, too, at first, but California isn’t so bad,” Darien informed him, and Noah turned to look at him, surprised. Most people found Noah hard to read, and he was okay with that, but Darien had always been distressingly good at knowing what he was thinking. Except when it came to how Noah felt about Darien, of course.
He paid attention. Maybe that was all it was. All of that inane babbling covered a sharp, keen mind, and Noah couldn’t help the little bit of a smile that pulled at the corners of his lips as he gazed over at his friend.
At his former friend, he reminded himself. But who knew what might happen? Hope, against all of his attempts to quell it, had risen in him, and he wasn’t going to put his heart on the line just yet, but surely friendship wasn’t too much to try for?
What could he say? Different things rose up in him, piling up in his chest and creating a traffic jam in his throat so that they all got stuck and none of them would come out. So he just nodded at Darien, who seemed to understand. At least, he smiled at him and then kept speaking.
“I can show you Disneyland, if you want! It’s a tourist trap, but it’s pretty fun, actually. And then there’s Hollywood …”
Noah watched Darien, the way his lips shaped around the words, the brilliance of his eyes and the beauty of his smile. Darien was nearly always smiling. When Noah was around him, he smiled more, and it was good, so very good, to have something to smile about again.
“So, this is my place,” Darien finally said, driving into an underground parking garage and letting the car come to a stop. “Noah, you know that we don’t have to do anything …?”
It was half a statement, half a question. Darien was letting him know that there were no expectations, and for Noah, it was the exact perfect thing for him to hear. He was utterly out of his element, in every single way, and Darien was treating him more as a friend than a potential lover, and that was deeply comforting.
“I know,” Noah told him, and then he turned and studied Darien’s profile. Slowly, the other man turned to face him, and when he did, Noah, feeling brave, leaned over and brushed his lips gently over Darien’s, because no one was around and because he wanted to and because he sensed that Darien wanted him to.
For a moment, Darien’s lips were slack under his, and he had a split second of being utterly sure that he had messed up and that he’d misread the situation. Maybe Darien even had someone else, another lover, and Noah was reading too much into some simple kindness and a kiss which had happened nearly a year ago.
Then those full lips tensed and parted, and Darien’s arms, so strong, came around him in a pure, sweet embrace. Noah turned to liquid inside as he was pulled close, as his lips were teased open and he felt the brush of Darien’s tongue against his own.
It was a complicated kiss, one full of greeting, and sadness, and joy, and uncertainty, and pleasure, and arousal. Noah’s eyes prickled as he let them slip closed, as he gave himself to the kiss, knowing that this time, he wasn’t going to let anything stop this from happening.
One of his biggest regrets is that he and Darien hadn’t gone further than they had. At the time, Noah had been too hurt, and he didn’t see why he should give himself to someone who was just going to leave him. Now, having lived without Darien, he realized that he would have much rather, by far, at least have had that sweet memory to hold close.
This time, if someone was going to stop this from happening, it would have to be Darien. Noah was going to take everything he was given, and if this thing between him and Darien didn’t work out, at least he would have something. So he let the passion bubble up in him, let their tongues tangle, and when he pulled away from Darien he felt almost drunk with him, with arousal.
