THURSDAY MORNING
Noah woke to warmth and the sound of breathing that wasn't his own.
Atlas's chest rose and fell beneath his cheek. Slow. Even. Like the world had finally remembered how to be still.
Noah didn't move. Didn't want to. Just lay there with his palm spread over Atlas's ribs, feeling the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat.
Two days ago I thought I'd never have this again.
The hotel room flashed through his mind—sterile sheets, that awful silence, his phone screen dark because Atlas hadn't called. The way his legs had given out. The way his chest had collapsed in on itself until breathing hurt.
He squeezed his eyes shut. Pressed his face harder into Atlas's skin.
Stop. He's here. You're here.
The bedroom stretched around them—massive windows letting in pale morning light, the kind that made everything look soft and new. So different from his old apartment with its single grimy window that faced a brick wall. This felt like waking up inside light itself.
Noah's fingers traced idle patterns on Atlas's side. The dip of muscle. The way his skin was sleep-warm and smooth under Noah's palm.
His hand moved higher. Across Atlas's shoulder where the muscle curved. Up to his collarbone. Then to his face.
Atlas's jaw was relaxed. No tension. No walls. Just him—actually peaceful for once.
Noah's fingertips brushed a piece of hair that had fallen across Atlas's forehead. He smoothed it back. Gentle. Like Atlas might break if he wasn't careful.
Then he leaned up and pressed his lips to Atlas's jaw. Barely there. Just a whisper of contact.
Atlas's mouth curved.
Noah froze.
"You can keep going." Atlas's voice came out rough with sleep. Eyes still closed. "I really don't mind."
Heat flooded Noah's face. He buried it against Atlas's chest. "Oh my god."
"What?" Atlas's hand found Noah's back. Started drawing lazy circles on his spine. "I like it when you think I'm sleeping and you get all sweet."
"I hate you."
"Liar." The circles got slower. Lower. "Been awake for like ten minutes. Watching you watch me."
"That's so creepy."
Atlas laughed—low and quiet, the sound vibrating through his chest into Noah's cheek. "You fixed my hair. Thought my heart was gonna stop."
Noah tried to pull away. "Stop—"
But Atlas's arms locked around him. Pulled him in until there was no space left between them. Until Noah could feel every inch of Atlas against him—warm skin and hard muscle and the steady thump-thump-thump of his pulse.
Then Atlas kissed him.
Slow at first. Just their mouths moving together. Lazy and unhurried like they had all the time in the world.
Noah's hands found Atlas's face. Held on.
Atlas's tongue traced Noah's bottom lip. Once. Twice. Then slipped inside when Noah opened for him.
Noah made a sound—somewhere between a sigh and a gasp—and Atlas swallowed it. Kissed him deeper. One hand sliding into Noah's hair, fingers tightening just enough to make Noah's scalp tingle.
When they broke apart, both breathing harder, Atlas kept their foreheads pressed together. Eyes still closed.
"Good morning," he whispered against Noah's mouth.
Noah's throat felt tight. "Morning."
They stayed like that. Just breathing the same air. Noah could feel Atlas's pulse jumping in his neck. Could feel his own heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.
Atlas's eyes opened. Dark. Warm. Looking at Noah like nothing else existed.
"God." Atlas's thumb traced Noah's cheekbone. "Your eyes."
"What about them?"
"They're—" Atlas stopped. Swallowed. "Green. Really fucking green."
Noah's face burned. "It's just the light."
"No." Atlas kissed him again. Soft. "It's you."
Noah buried his face back in Atlas's neck. Couldn't handle the way Atlas was looking at him—like he was something precious. Something worth keeping.
"Is Lydia awake?" Atlas's voice rumbled against Noah's temple.
"Probably not. She's a heavy sleeper."
Atlas's hand slid down Noah's spine. Deliberate. "So we have time."
"Time for what?"
The hand kept going. Over the curve of Noah's ass. Fingers spreading. Gripping.
"Atlas—" Noah's breath hitched.
"Yeah?"
"We can't—Lydia's down the hall—"
"Then you'll have to be quiet." Atlas rolled them over. Settled his weight on top of Noah. His mouth found that spot behind Noah's ear that made his brain short-circuit. "Think you can do that?"
Noah's hands fisted in Atlas's hair. Pulled him down. Kissed him hard enough to bruise.
"Is that a yes?" Atlas murmured against his lips.
"Shut up."
Atlas grinned. Then kissed him like he was trying to prove a point.
Their mouths moved together—harder now, more desperate. Atlas's teeth caught Noah's bottom lip. Tugged. Noah gasped and Atlas deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against his, stealing every coherent thought Noah had.
Noah's hands mapped Atlas's back. The shift of muscle under skin. The way his shoulders flexed when he held himself up. The way his whole body trembled slightly when Noah's nails dragged down his spine.
"Fuck—" Atlas broke the kiss. Pressed his forehead to Noah's. Both of them breathing hard. "You're gonna kill me."
"Good."
Atlas laughed. Kissed him again. Softer this time. Like he was trying to memorize the shape of Noah's mouth.
When they finally broke apart, Atlas's phone buzzed on the nightstand.
"Ignore it," Noah said.
It buzzed again.
"Atlas—"
"Fine." Atlas reached over. Checked the screen. "Daniel. He's downstairs with my stuff."
"Your clothes?"
"Yeah." Atlas kissed Noah's forehead. Then his nose. Then his mouth. Like he couldn't help himself. "I'll text him to leave them at the door."
"I can get them."
"You sure?"
Noah pushed at his chest. "Yeah. Give me a second."
He rolled out of bed. The air was cold after Atlas's warmth. He grabbed sweatpants off the floor—his? Atlas's? Who knew anymore—and pulled them on.
Atlas watched from the bed. Eyes tracking every movement.
"What?"
"Nothing." But Atlas's mouth curved. "You just look good here. In my apartment."
"This is my apartment."
"Our apartment?"
Noah's heart did something stupid in his chest. He threw a pillow at Atlas. "Shut up."
Atlas caught it. Grinning. "Hurry back."
Noah padded downstairs. The marble floor cold under his bare feet. The whole apartment quiet except for the hum of the city filtering through the windows.
He opened the door.
Daniel stood there—perfectly pressed suit, neutral expression, two garment bags draped over his arm like they weighed nothing.
"Mr. Wellin." Professional. Polite. Like it was totally normal to be delivering clothes at six-thirty in the morning.
"Thanks, Daniel." Noah took the bags. Heavy. Expensive fabric.
"Mr. Sterlins requested workout attire as well. Second bag."
"Perfect. Appreciate it."
Daniel nodded once. Then he was gone—footsteps echoing down the hallway, already on to whatever else Atlas needed.
Noah closed the door. Carried the bags upstairs.
Atlas was still in bed. Sprawled across the sheets like he owned them. Hair a mess. Eyes half-closed.
Noah hung the clothes in the closet—pushed his own stuff aside to make room. His fingers lingered on one of Atlas's shirts. White cotton. Soft. He pressed it to his face without thinking. Breathed in.
Cedar. Coffee. Him.
"You sniffing my clothes?"
Noah dropped the shirt. Spun around.
Atlas was leaning against the doorframe. Arms crossed. Trying not to smile.
"No."
"You were totally sniffing my shirt."
"Was not."
"Noah." Atlas pushed off the frame. Crossed to him. Backed him up against the closet door. "You're a terrible liar."
"I wasn't—"
Atlas kissed him. Hard. Thorough. Until Noah forgot what they were talking about.
When Atlas pulled back, Noah's brain had turned to static.
"What time is it?" Atlas's lips brushed Noah's jaw.
Noah couldn't think. "Um. Six-thirty?"
"Early."
"Yeah."
"We should shower."
Noah's breath caught. "Together?"
Atlas's eyes went dark. Pupils blown. "Yeah. Together."
BATHROOM
The water was already running when Noah stepped in.
Atlas pulled him under the spray immediately. Water cascading over both of them. Steam filling the space.
"Hi," Atlas said against his mouth.
Noah kissed him instead of answering.
Their mouths moved together—lazy at first, then desperate. Atlas backed Noah against the tile. The cold shock against his spine made him gasp.
Atlas's mouth went to his neck. Teeth scraping. "Tell me what you want."
Noah's brain went blank. "I—"
"Words, Noah."
"You. Just—" His breath hitched when Atlas's hand wrapped around him. "Fuck—yes. That."
Atlas worked him slowly. Deliberately. Watching Noah fall apart with that intense focus that made Noah feel like he was the only thing in the universe that mattered.
When Noah came, Atlas swallowed his sounds with another kiss.
Then Noah sank to his knees.
The tile was hard and cold but he didn't care. All he could focus on was Atlas above him—head thrown back, hand braced against the wall, completely wrecked.
"Jesus—Noah—" Atlas's voice broke. "You don't have to—"
Noah looked up at him. Held his gaze. And took him deeper.
Atlas made a sound like he was dying. His free hand found Noah's hair. Not pulling. Just holding on like Noah was the only thing keeping him standing.
It didn't take long.
Atlas came with Noah's name on his lips—desperate and broken and perfect.
When Noah stood, Atlas immediately pulled him close. Kissed him like he was trying to breathe Noah in.
"That was—" Atlas stopped. Tried again. Couldn't finish.
Noah grinned against his mouth. "Yeah?"
"Shut up." Atlas kissed him again. Softer. "You're so fucking smug."
"Can you blame me?"
"No." Atlas's hands cupped his face. "God, no."
They actually showered after that. Though Atlas kept getting distracted—his hands wandering, his mouth finding Noah's shoulder, his neck, anywhere he could reach.
When they finally got out, both flushed and breathing hard, Noah caught his reflection in the mirror.
Hair dripping. Face red. Marks on his neck Atlas had definitely left on purpose.
He looked happy.
Atlas appeared behind him. Arms wrapping around his waist. Pulling him back until they were pressed together.
Their eyes met in the mirror.
"Look at us," Atlas murmured.
Noah did.
Morning light. Steam clinging to the edges. Both of them soft-eyed and tangled together.
They looked right. Like this was always supposed to happen.
Noah's throat went tight.
Atlas pressed a kiss to his neck. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Noah covered Atlas's hands with his own. "Really okay."
"Good." Atlas's arms tightened. "Because I'm not letting you go."
Noah turned in his arms. Looked up at him. "Thank god you're here."
Atlas's expression softened. He kissed Noah's forehead. His temple. The corner of his mouth. "Where else would I be?"
They got dressed. Noah in dark jeans and a grey henley. Atlas in black pants and a white shirt—sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone.
Noah watched him from the bed. The way his fingers worked the buttons. The flex of his forearms. The casual elegance of every movement.
"You know," Noah said. "Lydia's gonna want things today."
Atlas glanced over. "What kind of things?"
"Everything. Photos. She'll probably try to get you to buy her stuff."
"So?"
"So you have to learn to say no sometimes. Otherwise she'll never stop."
Atlas crossed to the bed. Braced his hands on either side of Noah. Leaned down until their faces were inches apart. "I think I can handle your sister."
"You say that now."
Atlas kissed him. Quick. "I say that because it's true."
Noah pulled him down for another kiss. Slower. "We'll see."