The first two doors are a miss. On my third attempt, a skinny-looking young Asian man opens the door and sweeps his gaze over me like he just saw his favorite snack.

"Hello there," his exaggerated facial expressions and his effeminate voice are already annoying me for some reason.

"I'm looking for Noah?" I cut to the chase.

"Are you sure you're not looking for me?" His hazel eyes are filled with lust, the way he worries his lip even more proof he likes what he sees. "My name is Silas, but I'll let you call me Noah if that does it for you."

"No." I deadpan. "Is Noah here or not?"

He raises an eyebrow at me, remaining quiet for some moment which gives me an opportunity to register voices and laughter from inside the apartment. Finally he twists his head to the side and yells. "Noah! There's a giant, sexy hunk of muscle looking for you."

I automatically tense up at the sudden realization that I am just seconds away from being face to face with him again after so long. Noah appears behind a wall and then he freezes when he sees me.

"Noah..."

"Oh my god, what are you doing here..." Then he is running to me, pushing this Silas dude to the side and his body clashes with mine in the tightest hug. His head is buried in my neck and he's inhaling my smell, the relief of seeing him and having him in my arms again makes my eyes water.

"Fuck, Noah, are you ok?" I hear myself whisper, my voice so much deeper now, almost cracking with emotion.

He nods and I feel the movement against me, he still doesn't move. "I can't believe you're here."

Finally he lifts his head searching my face, and I frown when I notice how fucking tired he looks, washed out and just not right. His eyes have a shine to them. They used to be clear and deep and decided, now they're empty. Even though his skin looks more tanned he doesn't look healthy anymore.

"Why are you here? How did you find me?" He asks as I close the door behind myself and he leads us further through the small dark hallway of this dump. I don't know what I was expecting but not this.

"I came to look for you," I say. "You haven't been answering my messages or calls. I thought something happened to you after that phone call."

"I'm sorry, I've just been busy," he avoids my look and takes my hand, pulling me into the main area of the apartment.

Four other people are sitting on a ratty couch. Two girls and two guys. They all seem to be dressed in night-out outfits, like they just came back from clubbing but it's nine in the morning. Beer bottles and glasses, and the distinctive stench of weed are all around us, stale and uninviting.

"Sorry about the mess," Noah waves around and goes to the adjacent kitchenette urgently looking for something through the cupboards, "You wanna drink?"

I shake my head, because what the fuck is this.

"Come on, gorgeous, join us for one round," Silas muses from where he is sitting before picking up a pipe from the glass table.

"Leave him alone, Silas," Noah finally finds a half full bottle of something that looks like vodka and picks up two glasses from the dryer, "come on Dylan, let's go to my room."

"Oh wait, that's the famous Dylan?" There is Silas again. "He keeps talking about this boyfriend of his but we honestly thought he made you up. Although honey, you do look like a fucking dream. If you guys ever wanna add a third..."

"Shut up, Silas," Noah grits through his teeth while urging me to one of the rooms, "and stay away from our room tonight, you can sleep on the couch."

"Aw, you won't let me even watch?"

I feel pure rage explode inside of me as I turn around ready to deck him but Noah gets in my face. "Just ignore him. Please."

I manage to pull in a few breaths as I try to calm myself, and he walks me down the hall away from these random, annoying people. Finally it's just the two of us after he closes the door of this very small room that barely fits two single beds. "He can be so annoying sometimes. He's not all bad though."

"You live with him?" I ask dumbfounded. 

"Yeah, he's my roommate," he motions at one of the beds. "And two other guys are in the room next to this. Sorry about the mess," he repeats and goes around fixing the confronter and opening the window letting some of the fresh air in, "I didn't expect you to come."

"Noah, I don't care about the mess. What the fuck is going on here?"

"Nothing, what do you mean?"

"Why are you here? Why did you disappear?"

"Disappear?" He huffs a nervous laugh. "I didn't disappear. Something came up, a... a job came up."

"You have a job. In Alaska."

"Ah yeah. I guess. How are things back in Alaska?"

I come to him and take his hand in mine to stop his restless hands and antsy body. He looks at me with so much trepidation in his eyes. "Things are not the same without you. Baby... talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about." He sniffles and rubs his nose with the back of his hand. "I can't..."

"Something's wrong, please tell m-"

"Jesus fucking Christ Dylan, just stop." His voice is croaky, harsh. Unrecognizable. My jaw strains, neck tendons pulling with frustration that I'm feeling but I see the indecision written all over his face, the bob of his Adam's apple, the fear and his inability to answer me. So I don't push anymore. He brings his hand to my beard and touches me like he can't believe I'm here.

"I missed you so much," his nails are digging into my skin like he wants to rip it open and crawl inside of me. I feel my breath catch, and somewhere under all this suffocating anger and confusion and pain I know that he is telling me the truth. And I find myself tightening the grip I have on his hand. He holds on tighter. He doesn't let go. And his mouth is on mine. He kisses me with so much desperation and I can't deny that his kiss makes me forget where we are and what is happening. I just kiss him back with everything I have. Kiss my Noah.

He wraps his hand around the back of my neck, taking the kiss deeper, teasing my lips open with the tip of his tongue and sweeping inside as if he just remembered he belonged there. How I missed those plush, warm lips on mine and the way we perfectly fit together. It's been so long since I've been this close to him, and the complete disarray my body is feeling is proof of that.

He strips the long-sleeved shirt he is wearing over a T-shirt and keens deep in his throat as he presses our bodies close, like he's dying to be touched everywhere. I want to touch him, I really do but his trembling body and cold skin make me hesitate.

I manage to rip our mouths apart breathing raggedly staring at his lips, his face, his chest. I press my palm to his heart feeling how fast it beats for me. And then I notice faint tiny bruises on his arms and a chill spreads across my neck raising my hairs there. His fingers slip beneath the hem of my shirt, stroking the ridges of my stomach.

"Come on," Noah grabs my crotch that is slowly waking up with his kisses, "I missed you."

God, I missed him too. I want his arms around me and I want to be cherished in a way only he knows how to do, I want to feel his skin against mine as I run my fingers over the contours and grooves of his body. But I stop him by taking his wrists in my hands.

"Are you high?" He flinches, looks at the ground. "Just weed. Chill."

"Just weed?"

"Yes. Everyone smokes weed in Cali, Jesus, come on, let me blow you... I can see you're hard."

"But you're not." I touch his dick over the basketball shorts he's wearing and he's soft. "What are you on?"

Something dark passes over his features, something painful and... ashamed. Then he takes a step back, picks up his shirt from the floor, puts it back on. "None of your fucking business."

I can see him putting up the walls in his head one by one. He's retreating. I'm losing him all over again. Any second now and those gorgeous eyes of his full of need would hold nothing but an empty, hollow stare. But he needs me, I think he needs me more than ever. So I take a step closer.

"Hey. Don't go," I whisper. I reach for his hand again, my fingers wrapped loosely around his wrist so he could escape if he wanted to. "I'm sorry. I won't ask anything anymore. I'm just so worried."

"I'm ok, I'm tired, that's all." His voice is deep and pleading.

"Come here," I wrap my arm around his shoulders and gently kiss his temple. "Wanna lie down?"

"Will you lie with me?"

"Yeah, Noah, of course. I'm tired too." I toe off my shoes, deciding to stay in my jeans and T-shirt, Noah takes off his shorts and shirt leaving his underwear and T-shirt on. He lets out a sigh before lying down and rolling away from me on his side. Track marks are tainting that beautiful skin of his and he thinks I'm going to believe he's just tired. But I don't comment on it. He's still my gorgeous, beautiful boy.

I look uneasily around the room, closing the window and the curtains then go to his bed. I grab a quilt from the other bed, curling myself around him. He stiffens at first when I get the blanket tucked around us but soon a peaceful silence falls over us as I settle in up alongside him somehow managing not to fall off the too small bed. Sleep slowly, then all at once gets its claws in him. But not me.

I try to decide if I should try to start a conversation later, ask more questions, anything really, but I know how stubborn Noah is, and if he doesn't want to talk, no one will be able to make him. I listen to his breathing. With the way Noah's body is trembling, how his face is scrunching up slightly and he's letting out small whimpers I instantly know he must be having a nightmare. I can't stand it. Careful not to wake him I leave the room and pour a glass of water for Noah in the kitchen grateful that all those people left. After returning to his room, I get undressed down to just my boxer briefs, crawl into bed, pull him into my arms, my chest to his back, and hold on to him until finally his breathing has evened out, going slow and deep. Soon after I let myself relax I drift off.

I think it's late evening when I feel Noah move beside me. He leaves the room and I hear a shower. When he comes back after some time, he nestles back alongside me, and I take a deep breath, smelling his hair because his smell is so comforting to me, the same way he is. All this time, Noah's ass grinds leisurely into my crotch. As achy as my balls are right now, I refuse to give my body what it wants. We both fall into an uneasy slumber, dreams taking over. In my sleep, I can feel Noah everywhere. His body pressing into mine, his sweet yet masculine scent overwhelming my senses. His soft lips dancing on my neck. It feels so damn good, I never want to wake up.

When I feel Noah's backside pushing against my cock again, I squeeze his hips in an attempt to stop him. He brings my hand to his front and I can feel the hardness there.

"Touch me, please Dylan, it's been so long."

"I'm not sure that's smart. I need to talk to you. I need..." In that moment his hand presses against mine and I feel the heat of him on my palm through the cotton of his underwear. It's scalding hot and as hard as a steel pipe.

"Fuck yeah," he moans. "Missed your touch. Missed everything."

So why didn't you come back to me, I want to shout at him. I would have touched you every single day, every hour if you wanted me to. Why did you let us go without?

I still. He notices my uncertainty and turns on his other side to face me.

"Hey," he whispers and his fingers comb back some of my hair. "I'm ok, I'm sober now, I want this." 

I press my lips to his forehead, pull him in close, and he nuzzles into my neck.

"Noah," I mumble.

He shimmies out of his boxers, kicking them away, immediately coming back to grind his cock on mine through my boxers. Feeling him, his warmth and strength writhing into me with need makes my mind blank and my body lights up.

I can't help the gasp that comes out or the way my back arches as I thrust up, trying to maintain the friction I'm dying for. My body is thrumming for him, vibrating with a need so strong, I may combust. His lips kiss are on mine and then work their way down my throat toward my chest, flicking his tongue across my nipple before grazing his teeth over it. The feeling of his mouth on my body is sublime, especially when his hands trail lower, dancing around my waist. 

I'm completely at his mercy, when he pushes me on my back, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses along my waistband before hooking his fingers underneath, tugging them down. A hot wave races through my body as my cock springs free, slapping audibly against my stomach. Face flushed, his gaze travels up to meet mine, eyes almost black as his pupils swallow his irises. His hair, which seems to be almost dry now, hangs in his face in natural waves. My fingers thread through the thick strands, tugging lightly as he starts to speak.

"I want you," he admits, pressing his lips to my thigh. "So much." Another kiss. The sincerity in his tone is staggering, and it has raw emotion burning the back of my throat. I've spent many, many nights desperately wishing to hear him say those words. Wishing I could feel his hands on my body again. Now that it's happening, it doesn't seem real. Like at any point, I'll wake up and realize it had all been a dream and I'm all alone in that empty house in Alaska.

"Dylan, if I asked you to fuck me now, would you do it?"

I cup his face. "You still look tired. You can barely keep your eyes open." His stress is palpable, circles under his eyes telling me he didn't rest enough.

"I promise I'll sleep some more after." His eyes close, but he gives the faintest smile as his hand starts to work between us. With the way his breath hitches and his hips grind I know he is stroking himself.

"I want to feel good. I want to feel you in me. You take me places I can only go with you."

He rolls back down onto his back pulling me on top of him, spreading his legs wide. "I want you to replace the bad with the good."

And fuck if that doesn't split me right open.

"Baby..."

"Please." He slides his hand to his ass and dips a finger downward, I can't see it but I feel him pressing it to his hole and it makes my nose flare. "Make it slow. Make it good."

I groan, and he knows he's won. I kiss him hard, sloppy and teeth-knocking, and hurry to replace his hand with mine, touch his hole with my finger.

"Yesss," he hisses into a moan as I press and rub, seeking entrance but can't go much deeper without some lubrication.

"Hang on," he says, breathless as he tears from my mouth. He reaches for the nightstand next to the bed, rummaging through until he finds what he is looking for. Two things fall from his hand onto the mattress beside us. A small packet of lube and a condom. My gaze remains fixed on the condom as an icy chill runs down my spine. A thousand questions batter my brain. We'd never used condoms before. I knew it had been two months, but why? Has Noah been with other people over the past months? What did it mean? My stomach sours at the thought. Noah's hot tongue sliding down my neck and his teeth biting my peck make me jump, breaking me from my spinning dilemma. Concerns over the condom get lost in the back of my mind as his hand sticky with lube brings my dick to a point of no return.

By the time I push into him, he is so desperate, so damn wanting, he is begging, and there is no place else I want to be but inside him, condom or not. I run my hands everywhere I can touch. I kiss him while my cock pins him to the bed. It is slow and deep and so, so good. But it is more than pleasure. It is grounding and centring, and if he wants sex to make him feel better, if he swore I take him places he's never been when I make him come, then I would damn well take him there. I thrust in hard and every thrust is heaven and hell. In and out. Everything I loved. Everything I lost. I can't lose him.

"Oh fuck, oh-" he groans, and I know I found that sweet spot inside him, as the sweat starts soaking the T-shirt he never got the chance to take off. I shift to rest on my forearm reaching between us to take his dick in hand. He somehow manages to spread his legs further apart, digging his heels into my ass as he tries to arch into my hand.

"Fuck, yeah. You're so hot, baby," I breathe into his neck, watching my hand fist his length, loving the way his silky-smooth skin feels. I wish I could see lower–watch how I sink into his tight body.

He gasps when I squeeze him tighter, his mouth open, his eyes wide. I cover his mouth with mine and kiss him because I know sensory overload drives him wild. We make love like that, slow and sensual, until he whines, almost in discomfort and I pick up my pace, start jerking him in time with my frantic thrusts.

"Oh my God," he cries, rasps, and then his whole body goes rigid as so much cum spills between us. His orgasm wracks through him so much he convulses and shudders. Wrapping him up in my arms, he stays boneless, pliant, making the most delicious sounds. I stay inside him, wringing out every ounce of pleasure in him.

Hands clutch my cheeks almost painfully as our gazes connect. His brow is furrowed, almost like he's in pain, as little aftershocks seem to rocket up his body. His lip quivers and I kiss it, as his tight hole continues clenching on me deliciously.

"Fuck I'm coming," my eyes roll back and I feel myself give one last deep thrust as I shoot off.

Distantly, I feel fingers twisting and combing at my sweaty hair, blunt nails scratching at my scalp. It takes me a moment to realize I'm lying down on him, my cheek squished against his chest, right over his thundering heart.

"Noah...I..." I murmur into his chest, then turn my head and rest my chin on his sternum to look at him. His thumbs stroke over my cheeks and I lean up hovering over his mouth. The way he looks at me, the depth of his eyes, the love within them.

"What?" He whispers and his mouth forms a soft, lazy smile which makes me so incredibly happy.

"Noah, I...I-," I repeat, the tremble in my voice unmissable.  But he can hear the words before I say them and he shakes his head, vehemently. Only a breath apart now, he roughly grabs my face as my heart bleeds between us.

"Don't you dare say it now," he tells me roughly. I open my mouth, but before the three words I need the most for him to hear get out, he slams his mouth to mine, silencing me.

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