Sunlight breaks through the open windows, illuminating swatches across the living room floor, turning the aged wood into golden slats. A spicy summer breeze ruffles my hair and I smell the flowers, blueberries and sunshine.

It's the beginning of berry season in Anchorage, and the blueberry patches grow thick along the Chugach State Park mountainsides. Alaska's annual Blueberry Festival is a fun-filled way to enjoy the juicy harvest, and the city's hiking trails and urban greenspaces fill with berry pickers hauling their buckets and baskets.

I lean on the balcony railing of our loft, observing the last bit of morning that cuts across the downtown of Anchorage. The boards creek and a line of warmth presses against my back. Noah kisses my neck then sets a cup of coffee down beside me. He holds another cup in his hands.

"I think this is going to work," I say as he pushes his free hand under my t-shirt to just rest on the skin of my stomach. His touch is a pleasant warmth and I lean back into his chest. He kisses my neck again and then presses his face to the skin of it, breathing me in.

"I think you were right. Summertime in Alaska is something else. I love it here."

After the official arrest of Valentine Black, we could put all of that behind us and start our lives over, and Anchorage was the best place to do it. The decision to leave the home that I built in Wake Forest was not made lightly. I thought long and hard about it. But thinking about it now from this perspective, I come to realize that Wake Forest was my hiding spot. I was nothing but a lone wolf hiding in his den. But I don't have anything to hide now. This city is where I was born, where I always wanted to be until I was made to believe I was not welcomed. And now, with all of those insecurities gone, with the love of my life standing right next to me, it makes even more sense to come back here.

Noah Summerville is made for me, and that's a fact. I selfishly keep reminding my boyfriend of that whenever I get the opportunity, which he enjoys more than he wants to admit. But loving him, owning him, being possessive of him like that doesn't mean I want to keep him hidden in some dark deep forest like I did myself all those years. No, my guy is meant to be seen, admired by people. And that isn't because of his appearance, not really. At least, it wasn't entirely because of that, though the man had a face and body that would make the devil weep. It's the extroverted, expressive nature with which he carries himself. It's the physical confidence of a man entirely at ease with himself. It is the young artist in him that demanded to be admired and appreciated by the audience.

Knowing Noah, and I mean really knowing him means that you should never imprison him. He likes the illusion of it in sex sometimes, and those games are delicious whenever we decide to play. But in reality, he craves the freedom that comes with walking crowded streets and the opportunity to meet people and talk to them. He needs friends and music and art. He says he only wants me in his life to be happy, but I made sure he not only has me, but everything else that a young, talented man like him should have.

And we have the best of both worlds here. Being based in a bigger city allows Noah to work on the gallery project. But we are also just an hour or two away from the wilderness and seclusion if we ever need to just get lost. The house in Wake Forest is up for rent, but I will never sell it, so we have the option to go back there sometime in the future if we decide to.

"Are you busy at the gallery today?" I ask. Noah made a decision after talking to Ravi and officially bought out the gallery that once belonged to my mother. It felt like a full circle, like it's staying in the family where it belongs. And Noah is family now.

"No. What do you want to do today?"

"It's Saturday. Maybe we could go out, get lunch somewhere."

As he stands next to me and watches the busy morning below us, the intense need to hold him is overwhelming. He could've died. I almost lost Noah forever. So I kiss him without hesitation. It is sweet and wonderful and the morning sun turns his irises into burning emeralds after we break apart.

When we finally finish our coffee we get ready for our day. Anchorage blossoms in summer. The city's recognizable red Anchorage Trolley Tours and other sightseeing tours begin their daily departures from downtown. The flowers are blooming in Town Square Park and Alaskans are celebrating summer solstice with baseball, carnival, live music, barbecues, and other festivities. With days averaging more than nineteen hours of sunlight, July in Anchorage is bright and balmy.

We decide to have lunch in our new favourite bar-restaurant which is one of the popular spots for the queer community of the city. I feel rejuvenated in my own city after so long being treated like a black sheep. I was never ashamed of my sexuality and now with Noah by my side I finally got to a place where I am actually proud of it. Proud to call this man mine, proud of how far we've come.

Noah enjoys the food, the buzz of the weekend crowd and the happiness of same-sex couples surrounding us. After we eat we stay for a few more drinks at the bar. He is approached by a few people who recognize him from visiting the gallery and it happens more and more every time we go out. I couldn't be more proud of him and what he's achieving with it. His paintings are a testament to his talent and more than that, they come from that raw place where his demons used to lurk and make him doubt himself. Now he puts it all on canvas. The bad, the ugly–it's transformed in the most mesmerizing form of art which must feel healing and sort of a therapy for him.

I've casually exchanged a few words with a bartender while waiting for my beer when my gaze finds Noah–he is laughing at something with a group of people surrounding him. Huge belly laughs, his head thrown back and that radiant healthy color on his cheeks.

I could close my eyes and listen to that sound vibrate in my ear drums all day long but I don't because sometimes, only sometimes, I'm terrified that he'll disappear again. Sometimes after he falls asleep in my arms I spend the entire night watching his face to make sure it's not true. So I stare at him, his parted lips, at his green irises that are twinkling with joy he so much deserves. I stare because I don't want to miss a thing.

Then he looks back at me through the crowd, grinning like this is his favourite thing in the whole world. Just us being in a bar, hanging out with some new friends. Just being happy, being free. I smile at him delightedly and then continue speaking to the bartender.

He comes back to me after a short while, leaving a light kiss on my mouth. "Sorry I left you."

"It's fine. You were enjoying yourself with your new friends."

The dimples in his cheeks deepen. "I know it's shocking to find out I can actually have some."

I smile and turn to face him, making room for him between my spread thighs.

"Nah, could never be surprising to find out other people are obsessed with you. I mean, I get it."

"You're not jealous?"

"Why would I be? You're mine," I lift my hand to stroke his cheek with the pad of my thumb. "Should I remind everyone?"

He chuckles as I tip my head back and nuzzle my nose against his jawline. His fingers push up and down against the denim of my jeans absentmindedly. His proximity is intoxicating. It doesn't matter how long we've been together or how often he touches me, whenever I'm with him, my body, my soul, my heart is full of uncontainable energy.

He groans, and slightly moves away from my body. "You trying to give me an erection in front of all these people?"

"You were asking for it," I tease and roll my gaze over to see the crowd of faces enjoying their afternoon, not paying us any attention. We're free here, and we're in love–let them stare.

He smiles down at me and his face is doing the fond thing it liked to do around me. Like he is in awe of me. I wanted more than anything to deserve it.

"Come on, take me home, I want to get you naked," I laugh but down my beer like I'm in a competition.

"I only meant so you can pose for me. I need to finish that portrait." He smiles a little and shrugs one shoulder.

"Right... I'm feeling used again," I say dryly.  

He often makes me pose for him too, which I'm always grumpy about but secretly I know that being an artist's muse is a dream. I know he is planning to have that artwork up in his first solo exhibition later this year. I'm not sure how it happened but apparently, my boyfriend broke the internet a few weeks ago with his viral videos about his art and the gallery. With the warm weather, Noah often paints shirtless in his small home studio and he ended up posting a few videos of him at work, to promote the gallery and attract new artists and patrons. It's no surprise that people went crazy about a hot artist like him and he's gotten a few deals since then.

He interlinks my fingers with his after we pay the bill and leave the bar, hurrying towards our loft. And once we're in there I'm completely at his mercy. He slowly takes my clothes off in this strange little game of foreplay that he likes to play. Almost every time after his sessions we end up fucking. Sometimes during if I can't control myself. There's something about Noah's serious, focused face and the unrushed movements of his masculine hands that make my blood boil with desire for him.

"Are you ok there?" Noah smirks from behind his canvas, noticing the way my dick slowly reacts to memories of all the previous times he's tortured me like this.

"I'd be better if you had less clothes."

"We tried that, remember? I couldn't really work like that."

I stay in my chair for a few minutes, spending every molecule of focus and determination I had left forcing my dick to stay put so Noah can finish his work.

"Hey. I'm done," he gets up. "But stay there for a second, I wanna try something for my socials." He brings the brush and color palette with him, goes around, stands behind my back. I flinch when the coldness of the paint comes in contact with the skin of my shoulder blades.

"What are you doing babe?"

"This looks so good," after a few minutes he snaps a picture and then continues painting shapes on my skin like it's his canvas.

"Let me see," I try to reach behind me for his phone.

"No, you have to wait."

"I don't want to be covered in paint. It's a pain in the ass to clean up."

"I'll wash you."

"Noah..." my voice is threatening and I use the opportunity to snatch his wrist and pull him right on my lap.

"No! What are you d-" I grab the brush and make a long stripe along his face and neck.

"Nooo..."

"There, can I paint you too? It's only fair," he wiggles and laughs and I join because this is so much more fun for me.

He manages to wiggle out of my embrace but I'm quick and easily snatch him off the ground and haul him over my shoulder, the brush and palette falling to the floor. There are splashes of paint everywhere now, on the floors, on his baggy sweats that he wears when he's painting, on myself.

I throw him on our bed and my fingers spread on his sharp clean shaven jaw, smudging more of the paint all over his skin in the process. My lips are an inch from his, and I can feel him getting hard. He's burning for it. For me, for whatever I'd give him now. And I plan to give him everything. My body, my soul, and the promise of forever.

I slam my lips on his and he opens with a groan, his hot wet tongue clashing against mine as he moans. His hips roll and he brushes his cock against mine. Fuck, I'm going to come from just this.

I slide my hands down his chest and twist the nipple that was so teasingly protruding from beneath his thin white t-shirt.

"Fuck," he hisses and then bites on my bottom lip with a grin, pulling it lightly.

"Oh, you wanna play rough today? Huh baby?"

"I don't wanna let you win, you ruined my project," he pouts but there's a teasing smile there too so I know that he isn't very bothered by it. Oh, he is definitely in the mood to play. I jam my knee between his and grind against his rock-hard dick. There is no turning back now, I'm desperate to come too, so I move to a better position and grind my length against his. Noah is still dressed and his sweats create a perfect heated friction against my naked flesh.

The moans and grunts the both of us are producing now are downright pornographic. His arms sneak up and down my back, then I feel his fingers digging into my bare ass, pulling me even closer to him, rubbing his crotch against mine.

I almost growl when he picks up a pace, the blunt fingernails brushing against my taint and hole in the most electrifying way. He does it again, testing the waters but then decides to move. "Don't you dare fucking stop."

"You want me to-?"

"Do it," I say and he pants, almost like he ran out of breath because of what I'm suggesting. "Wet your fingers for me," I murmur against the skin of his neck.

He obeys instantly, gliding his index and middle finger all the way inside. He sucks eagerly, smearing them with saliva.

"That's it, baby."

"Fuck Dylan, I didn't think you'd be up for this."

"Why wouldn't I? Want to feel your fingers inside of me when I come. I just know I'm going to love it... " I push his t-shirt up, smearing more paint onto his abs, "...because it's you."

Noah pushes his spit-slicked finger into my hole and I relax as much as I can allowing him in. Being penetrated is not something I'm generally into but I can enjoy it and I know that with Noah it will be something special.

"You have no idea how hot this is. A man like you..."

He says it in a voice that's barely audible before he brushes against my prostate and I breathe deeply, the wave of pleasure that slashes through me is so different from what I've experienced before.

"Fuck yeah, so close," I groan and don't recognize my voice or the lust in it. The place where he touches me sends an electric shock straight to my cock.

"Come in my mouth," he urges me to straddle his torso and I do it without hesitation, pushing my length all the way in until he gags. My thrusts turn animalistic as he stimulates my prostate with the perfect pressure of his finger. And when he uses his other hand to squeeze my sack, that sends me over the edge, all these different stimulations invading me all at once.

I watch him as he continues sucking me and swallowing my cum as I ride my orgasm. He releases my cock with a pop and I gather the cum that streams down his chin and thrust it between his lips, forcing him to lick every drop.

I press my lips to his, and he groans against them and we inhale and exhale each other's air as I lower his sweats down wanting to finally give him pleasure the same way he did to me.

"Would you ever want to bottom?" He asks but he barely keeps his composure when I slide my hand down his sexy V line and find the hardness inside his underwear.

"Sure. Anything."

"Did you bottom before?" I lower myself down, take his cock out and lick all over that beautiful silky skin and bulging veins. "Fuck."

"Plenty of times when I was younger and figuring stuff out." I continue slowly stroking his gorgeous cock. "It's not something I need or crave really. I could live without anal sex. But with the right person," I kiss the glistening head of his cock while I look him in the eyes, "...I'd let you fuck me anytime you wish, baby, just say the words."

I then swallow him and he practically trembles all over from the relief of finally giving him what he wanted.

"Fuck can I love you more? That's... yeah, yeah, ah...That's so sexy. I don't want to change anything about the way we fuck though, but..."

The delicious noises of pleasure fill my ears as I bob my head up and down, taking all of him to the back of my throat. I can feel him getting close, I can feel the need for release, his dick growing even more in my mouth.

"Fuck... Close...I'm coming for you, baby," his cum explodes in my mouth and down my throat. He comes for a long time and I keep sucking him dry until I swallow every last drop. Once I'm done I pull him out of my mouth and lick my lips as he watches me with feral eyes. "Damn."

I collapse on the mattress next to him, and both of our bodies go limp. I mould my body to his and wrap him in my arms. The heat of his flesh, the curve of his muscles, nothing had ever felt so perfect in my life.

"Should we shower?" I ask.

"And change the sheets," he adds after glancing at the droplets of paint and cum and sweat that now decorate not only our skin but the bedspread.

We both chuckle and I card my fingers through his hair. "Love you." I lean in to kiss his forehead. "Sorry, I ruined your project."

"It's ok, you'll pose for me again. You're not going anywhere."

Noah and my motherfucking heart. He's got me wrapped around his finger and he knows it. There's no question about it, I'll pose for him, or bottom for him, or anything he wishes for. Because everything we do seems to just work. The last few months of our life together have been pretty great, it seems we have settled into each other seamlessly. Life with him feels both exciting and surreal.

"I don't want this day to end," Noah sighs and snuggles against my chest while I hold him and keep pressing kisses to his head.

"It is a really good day," I agree, and then add. "But it can be even better." I nudge him with my knee. "Come on, let's shower, we're going somewhere."

"It's getting late."

"Not in Alaska this time of year," I glance at our tall bedroom windows and it's still bright even though it's evening.

His smile turns into a lopsided grin as I drag him by the hand to the bathroom.

*

"Where are we going?" he asks as I pull the car into drive.

"The lake," I turn onto the main road. "Maybe it's a cliche, but the water always makes me feel..."

"Free," Noah finishes.

"Yeah, exactly." Looking over at him with a smile I think about how we need to be there now. For what I'm about to do.

We drive east towards the mountains, the sun setting in the rear window behind us. The car is bathed in pinks and oranges and deep purples as it sinks lower in the sky and there is a calm between us, like the wave had crashed and now it was just a cool caress of it over us.

Taking the back roads, away from town, mountain ranges loom on the horizon and woods sprawl between the road and lake, dotted with a mix of evergreens and scrub brush. Once we arrive, our senses open wide with nature's beauty and hearty birdsong around us. My happy place, with a sense of divine peace that settles soul and spirit. And now I have the love of my life with me to share it all with.

The lake water is cold and stinging on our bare feet when we find a spot on the shore with the perfect view. When I'd come to the lakefront with Noah last winter, we'd been chasing northern lights in the pitch darkness and now the sky barely dims as the sun only sets a few degrees below the horizon. It feels like we've come full circle.

There is a rushing in my ears. Like a premonition, like a case of déjà vu. I'd felt in those very first moments that I'd do anything to keep seeing Noah, to keep Noah's hands on me and here we are half a year later–Noah's hands on my neck, his fingers tangled in my hair as he watches everything in front of us bathed in honey rose-tinted light. I try to ignore the thudding in my chest before speaking.

"Baby..." His eyes widen when he sees me on my knee. I hold out a little platinum ring on the tip of my index finger. The remains of the sun catch the edge, searing it in lines of white. I put the box on the ground and hold his hand. "Did you mean what you said about getting married?"

"Oh my God..." he whispers and I have him in my arms in less than a second. His mouth meets mine, stealing my breath. "Of course I meant it."

I meet his gaze again, and take his hand in mine with a weightless feeling of being exactly where I am meant to be. "Noah Summerville, will you marry me?"

"Yesyesyes," he peppers my cheeks in kisses and I laugh as he kisses me more. No lake or forest or mountain in the world can compare to his smile. He kisses me again, this time long, slow, exploring my mouth while he maps my face with his fingertips. When we break apart, he holds me and then his gentle words caress my cheek. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm so lucky you love me. I can't wait to be your husband."

And I know that this human being will hold my heart inside of his for as long as I walk the earth. Being with Noah had always felt like my world was centering to just him, but now it feels like the whole universe is ceasing to exist outside of this moment.

All I wish is that his brush and palette can capture this magical moment where my entire future is written as bright as day in salty, happy tears spilling down his gorgeous face.

He kisses me again and again like he is never going to stop. I never want him to.

THE END

_______

A/N

This is it, this is the end of Midnight Sun. There are so many different emotions that I'm feeling right now, but to sum it all up - I feel both relieved and sad that it is over.

I hope you enjoyed this last chapter, it took me so long to write it (maybe subconsciously I did not want to let Noah and Dylan go). I will be marking the story complete even though I am planning to write some type of epilogue in the future.

As always I am grateful to all of you who joined me in this journey. You kept surprising me with the number of reads this story got, it was all a bit surreal at times!

Anyway, I'm so so tired right now and have no brain power left to say anything else meaningful in this author's note 😂😭 I'm signing off. For now 😊 I'll be seeing you in a new story, hopefully soon. Love you.

🤍