SUNDAY
Noah woke to cold sheets.
His hand reached across the bed before his eyes opened. Empty space. Still warm, but empty.
He blinked at the ceiling. Listened for sounds—shower running, coffee brewing, anything. Nothing.
Where is he?
He sat up. The lake outside glittered in early morning sun. Atlas's side of the bed looked slept in but abandoned. Like he'd been gone a while.
Noah grabbed his phone. No messages.
He got up. Pulled on running gear—shorts, shirt, sneakers that had seen better days. His chest felt tight for no reason he could name. That unnamed feeling from last night still sitting there, patient and heavy.
Stop thinking.
---
Outside, the grounds stretched empty and perfect. Manicured lawns, distant trees, that ridiculous fountain near the tennis courts. He scanned for Atlas—golf course, paths, anywhere.
Nothing.
Noah pulled out his phone. Opened Spotify. Found his running playlist—the one with songs that made him feel less like he was drowning in his own head.
Don't think. Just run.
He took off. Fast. Faster than necessary. Like if he ran hard enough, his brain would shut up. Like speed could outrun the weight in his chest.
The path blurred. His breathing got harsh. Sweat soaked through his shirt.
He ran until his legs burned. Until thinking felt impossible.
When he finally stopped, gasping, he checked his watch. Almost an hour.
He should call Atlas. Ask where he went. Why he left without—
No.
Noah turned back toward the mansion. Took the long way. Let his breathing even out. The morning air cool against his overheated skin.
---
He opened the door and—
Atlas stood by the bed. Golf clothes—navy polo that did things to his shoulders, tailored slacks, that stupid cap that somehow looked good on him. He turned when Noah entered.
Their eyes met.
"Morning," Noah said. Smiled despite the sweat dripping down his temples, despite his shirt clinging to his chest.
Atlas's gaze dropped. Tracked over Noah's body—slow, deliberate. When his eyes came back up, they were darker.
"Morning." He crossed the room. Each step measured. Purposeful.
His hands found Noah's hips. Pulled him in hard.
"I'm disgusting," Noah tried to say, but Atlas's mouth was already on his.
Hot. Demanding. Atlas kissed him like he'd been starving for it. Like he'd left early just to avoid doing this while Noah was still asleep.
Noah's hands came up to Atlas's shoulders—tried to be careful of the expensive fabric, failed completely when Atlas's tongue swept into his mouth. His fingers dug in. Probably wrinkling the polo beyond repair.
Atlas made a sound against his mouth. Approval. Want. His hands slid under Noah's wet shirt, fingers spreading across his lower back.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Atlas's eyes were almost black.
"Shower," he said. Voice rough.
Noah's brain took a second to catch up. His lips felt swollen. "That an invitation?"
Atlas's mouth curved. Dangerous. His hand slid lower, cupped Noah's ass through his running shorts. "Do you need one?"
Noah looked at him through his lashes. Let his own hand drift down Atlas's chest, felt the muscle shift under expensive fabric. "I don't do uninvited."
"Why am I just learning this?" Atlas took his hand. Started pulling him toward the bathroom.
Noah let himself be pulled. "Maybe you never asked."
"I'm asking now."
In the bathroom, Atlas turned. Backed Noah against the counter. Kissed him slower this time. Thorough. His hands working Noah's shirt up and off.
"You're gonna ruin your clothes," Noah murmured against his mouth.
"Don't care."
Atlas's polo hit the floor. Then his hands were everywhere—Noah's chest, his waist, sliding into his shorts.
The shower ran hot. Steam filled the space between them.
---
They emerged flushed and grinning like idiots. Noah's hair dripping. Atlas's carefully styled hair completely ruined.
Noah grabbed his phone from the nightstand. "Should wake Lydia. Get breakfast."
"Stay here a bit longer." Atlas caught his wrist. Pulled him back down onto the bed.
Noah landed half in his lap. "Why would we stay in the room?"
"Can't think of a single reason." Atlas's mouth found his neck. Right below his ear. That spot that made Noah's breath catch.
"No." But Noah was laughing, tilting his head to give Atlas better access. "You wore me out enough already."
"Did I?" Atlas's teeth grazed his pulse point. "Could've sworn you wanted—"
"Stop." Noah was fully laughing now. "I'm serious."
Atlas pulled back. Eyes bright with amusement. "Maybe I'm just hungry."
"You're always hungry."
They both cracked up at that. Atlas's laugh shaking through Noah's back where they pressed together.
Noah twisted in his lap. Kissed him once—soft and quick. "Come on. Food."
"Fine." But Atlas's arms tightened before letting go. Like he couldn't quite help it.
---
They dressed in comfortable silence. Noah in dark chinos and a soft gray sweater that fit just right. Atlas in linen pants and a perfectly unbuttoned henley that looked effortless—and unfairly good.
Noah caught himself staring. Again.
"What?" Atlas asked, fighting a smile.
"Nothing."
"You're a terrible liar."
Noah threw a pillow at him.
---
They found Lydia by the fountain, scrolling through her phone. Sundress and sunglasses. Looking every bit the country club princess she'd been raised to be.
Noah came up behind her. Wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
She turned in his grip. Threw her arms around his neck. Held tight. "You're sad I'm leaving, right?"
"Absolutely not."
She pulled back. Narrowed her eyes. "Liar."
"Maybe a little," Noah admitted.
Atlas watched them from a few feet away. That soft look in his eyes he tried to hide. The one that made Noah's chest feel too full.
Lydia caught his gaze. Walked over without warning. "Your turn."
She hugged him suddenly—fierce and tight. Atlas went completely still. Then his arms came up. Held her carefully, like she might break.
"Six days would've been so boring without you," she said into his shoulder.
Atlas's hand rubbed her back. Gentle. "Come back anytime you want."
Noah made a cutting gesture across his throat, but Atlas had already said it.
Lydia pulled back. Grinned at Noah. "Hear that? I'm coming back."
"Apparently," Noah said, laughing despite himself.
---
The terrace overlooked the lake. Morning sun warm on their shoulders. White tablecloths. Crystal glasses. Other guests in pastel linens talking in low voices.
Atlas's hand found Noah's thigh under the table before they'd even ordered. Rested there. Heavy. Possessive.
The waiter brought coffee. Noah reached for his cup. Atlas's thumb traced slow circles through his jeans.
Noah's hand tightened on the cup. He shot Atlas a look.
Atlas smiled at his menu. Innocent.
When Noah set his cup down, Atlas's hand slid higher. Just an inch. But enough to make Noah's breath catch.
"Stop," Noah muttered, face heating.
"Stop what?" Atlas glanced at him. All wide-eyed innocence that didn't match the pressure of his palm.
"You guys are like high schoolers," Lydia said around a mouthful of pancakes. "It's disgusting."
Noah and Atlas looked at each other. Noah grinned despite the flush climbing his neck. "He was terrible in high school."
"You were watching me in high school?" Atlas's voice dropped. Flirtatious. His fingers flexed against Noah's thigh.
"You were loud. Hard to miss."
"That's not an answer." Atlas leaned closer. Just slightly. Like they were the only two people on the terrace.
Noah bit his lip. Caught Atlas tracking the movement. "You literally made noise everywhere you went."
"I got my answer." Atlas's thumb traced a deliberate line up Noah's inner thigh.
Noah's hand shot down. Grabbed Atlas's wrist. Squeezed in warning.
Atlas just smiled. Didn't move his hand.
"What answer?" Noah asked. His voice came out rougher than intended. "Tell me."
"Later." Atlas leaned in. His breath warm against Noah's ear. "When we're alone."
Noah shivered. Couldn't help it.
"You guys bicker like you've been married for years," Lydia announced. "It's actually horrifying."
Noah and Atlas looked at each other. Both smiled—quick, almost shy. Then looked away at the same time.
Lydia laughed. "Did you just get embarrassed?"
Atlas winked at her. His hand still hadn't moved from Noah's thigh.
Noah's phone buzzed.
Mom: We're at The Club. Bring Lydia here? Would love to see you.
The warmth in Noah's chest cooled slightly. He typed back: Have plans. Can't stay.
Mom: You don't have to stay. Just want to see you. Miss you.
Something in his chest twisted.
I miss you too. He sent it before he could overthink.
"What is it?" Atlas asked quietly. His thumb had stopped moving.
"My mom. Wants us at The Club. Says she just wants to see me." Noah looked up. Met Atlas's eyes. "Won't take long."
Atlas nodded. Squeezed his thigh once. Understanding without words.
---
THE DRIVE BACK
Noah kept taking pictures of Atlas driving. The light on his jaw. His hands on the wheel. The way he looked completely at home behind luxury.
"You have like a thousand photos of me on your phone," Atlas said, not looking over.
"I delete them after." Noah lined up another shot. The way Atlas's shoulders filled out his henley.
Atlas glanced at him then. Something flickered in his expression. "Do you?"
His voice held an edge Noah couldn't quite name. Atlas's tongue touched his lower lip. Brief. Deliberate.
"What was that?" Noah asked. His thumb hovered over the shutter button.
Atlas smiled. Slow. "Nothing."
But his hand found Noah's knee. Stayed there the rest of the drive.
They talked about work. LA. When Atlas would leave—early morning flight, meetings all day Tuesday, back Wednesday night. Normal things that felt less normal with Atlas's fingers drawing patterns on Noah's leg.
In the backseat, Lydia stayed glued to her phone. Every few minutes she'd laugh at something. Neither of them asked what.
---
COUNTRY CLUB
The gates opened smoothly. Old money and older trees. Brick pathways and boxwood hedges trimmed with military precision. Atlas pulled into the circle drive—all pristine white columns and ivy, valets in pressed uniforms who probably made more than most people.
Atlas parked. Cut the engine.
For a moment, no one moved. Then Lydia unbuckled and pushed the door open, stepping out into the cool morning air.
Atlas and Noah followed her out. The three of them stood by the car—sunlight glinting off the hood, the quiet hum of the country club around them.
Without warning, Lydia turned and threw her arms around Atlas. Hugged him tight.
"Love you," she said into his shoulder, her voice muffled but sure.
Atlas froze. For a breath, for a heartbeat. Then Noah saw it—the moment Atlas's careful composure cracked. He exhaled, arms coming up to hold her back. Gently. As if she were something fragile.
"Thank you," Lydia whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "For everything."
Atlas didn't answer. His throat worked, but no words came. Instead, he rested a hand against her back—steady, reverent. His thumb traced slow circles, a silent reply that said more than anything he could have spoken.
Lydia pulled back just enough to look at him. "Don't forget me, okay?" she teased, and then stood on her toes to kiss his cheek hard enough to leave a faint mark.
Atlas smiled. "Come visit," he murmured, the words escaping before he could stop them.
Then Lydia turned to Noah, grinning. "I'm coming back, right?"
"Apparently," Noah said, laughing despite himself.
She hugged him too—quick, fierce. "Don't take forever," she told him.
"Promise," Noah said.
Lydia nodded, then headed toward the carved wooden doors of the club, sunlight catching in her hair as she went. She didn't look back.
As she disappeared inside, Atlas's hand brushed against Noah's lower back. His fingers lingered there—warm, steady. A silent anchor.
Noah glanced at him. "I'll be quick."
Atlas nodded. His thumb traced one last slow circle at Noah's hip before he let go. "I'll be here."
---
The dining room looked like every country club dining room—high ceilings, windows overlooking the eighteenth hole, members in pastels eating eggs Benedict and gossiping behind perfectly manicured hands.
His parents sat at their usual table. Corner spot. Best view. Mom saw him first.
She stood immediately. Hugged Lydia first—held her at arm's length, studied her face. "You look wonderful."
Then she turned to Noah. Pulled him in. Held on longer than usual. Her perfume familiar. Expensive. Home in a way that made his throat tight.
"You took good care of her," she said. Not a question.
"Lydia's pretty self-sufficient."
Lydia moved to Dad. Sat next to him. Kissed his cheek. Hugged him.
Dad smiled. Slight. Careful. But there. His hand came up to pat her shoulder.
"Hey, Dad," Noah said.
"Noah." Dad's eyes tracked over him. Assessing. Looking for something. "You look good."
"Thanks."
" Have lunch with us," Mom said. Her hand on his arm. Warm. Insistent in that polite way that wasn't really a request.
"Can't. Meeting friends." Noah hugged her again. Breathed in her perfume. "Love you."
"Love you too, honey." She held his face. Studied him the way she used to when he was little. "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm good. Promise."
She didn't look convinced. But she let him go.
Noah kissed Lydia's head. "Text me if you need anything."
"I won't," she said. Already stealing bacon from Dad's plate.
---
Noah pushed through the entrance. Scanned the circle drive.
Atlas leaned against the car. Sunglasses on. Looking every bit the Manhattan elite he was. Other members glanced over as they passed. Whispered. Of course they did.
Their eyes met across the brick pathway.
Noah's chest did something complicated.
He walked toward him. Atlas pushed off the car. Met him halfway.
They fell into step together. Atlas's hand found Noah's lower back immediately. Warm. Possessive. His thumb traced slow circles through Noah's shirt.
"That was quick," Atlas murmured.
"Told you."
They reached the car. The valet appeared. Atlas tipped him without looking. Opened Noah's door.
Noah slid into the leather interior. Atlas rounded the hood. Got in. Started the engine.
The second the doors closed, Atlas pulled Noah in by the back of his neck. Kissed him hard. Urgent. Like five minutes had been too long.
Noah kissed back just as desperately. His hand fisted in Atlas's shirt. The other tangled in his hair.
Atlas's hand slid down. Gripped Noah's thigh. Pulled him closer—as close as the console would allow.
"Missed you," Atlas muttered against his mouth.
"You're ridiculous." But Noah was smiling. Breathless.
"Probably." Atlas kissed him again. Slower this time. Thorough. His tongue sweeping in like he had all the time in the world.
Noah made a sound. Low. Needy. Atlas swallowed it.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Atlas touched his forehead to Noah's.
"Okay?" Atlas asked quietly.
"Yeah." Noah kissed him once more. Soft. "Let's go home."
Atlas pulled out of the circle drive. His hand found Noah's thigh immediately. "LA tomorrow. Early flight." He glanced over. "Stay tonight?"
Noah looked at him. At the careful way he asked. Like the answer wasn't obvious. "Yeah. Okay."
They drove in comfortable silence. Connecticut blurred past. Trees and old estates. Wealth that didn't need to announce itself.
Then Noah's phone buzzed.
Mom: Coming to see your new place tomorrow. After my meeting.
Noah stared at the screen. Read it twice.
Why?
He typed it. Deleted it. Typed: Is something wrong?
Mom: No. Just want to spend time with you. I'll pick you up from work.
Noah sent back: Okay.
His thumb hovered over the screen. Something felt off. His mom had never visited his apartment. Not once in three years.
"What's wrong?" Atlas asked. His hand had stilled on Noah's leg.
Noah showed him the messages.
Atlas read them. Something shifted in his expression. Went carefully neutral. "She's probably just curious. About the apartment."
"She's never visited before." Noah's thumb hovered over the screen. "Not once."
"Maybe she misses you." Atlas's voice was careful. Too careful.
"Maybe."
Noah looked out the window. Watched Connecticut blur into New York. "Guess I'm staying over then. She's never been to my place."
Atlas's hand found his thigh again. Squeezed once. "It's fine. She probably just wants to see you."
Noah nodded. Didn't quite believe it.
The weight in his chest was back. That unnamed feeling that tasted like grief.
---
PENTHOUSE
Walking in felt strange. Like stepping back a week. Noah remembered leaving—how cold everything had felt. How sharp and final. How sure he'd been it was over.
That was seven days ago. Same place. Different everything.
Atlas kissed him the second the door closed. Hard. Possessive. Backed him against the wall.
Noah responded immediately. His hands in Atlas's hair. Their bodies pressed together—no space between them.
Atlas's hands slid under his shirt. Warm. Demanding. His mouth moved to Noah's neck.
"Missed you," Atlas muttered against his skin.
"I was gone for five minutes."
"Still missed you."
Noah laughed. Breathless. Pulled Atlas's face back up. Kissed him properly.
They stayed there. Against the wall. Making out like teenagers until they were both hard and breathing rough.
When they finally broke apart, Atlas touched his jaw. Gentle now. "What're you thinking?"
"Nothing." Noah smiled. Kissed him once more. Quick. "Promise."
Atlas studied him. That look that saw through everything. But he let it go. "Order in?"
"Yeah."
---
AFTER DINNER
They'd gotten Thai. Eaten on the couch. Now the containers sat abandoned on the coffee table.
"Got reports to read," Atlas said. He looked almost apologetic. "Work stuff. Won't take long."
"Go." Noah pushed him gently. "I'm good."
Atlas kissed his forehead. Lingered there. Then disappeared into his study.
Noah pulled out his phone. Read his mom's message again. Then again.
He texted Lydia: Did Mom say anything to you? About visiting tomorrow?
Lydia: Nope. Nothing. Why?
Noah didn't answer.
He stared at the message. At the words that felt careful and deliberate.
Just want to spend time with you.
His chest felt tight.
He scrolled through his photos. Found the ones from today. Atlas driving. Atlas laughing at something Lydia said. Atlas looking at Noah like—
He stopped scrolling. Stared at that last one.
Don't think about it. Not now.
Hours later, Atlas came back. Looked exhausted. Dropped onto the couch next to Noah. Pulled him close immediately.
"New sector?" Noah asked. He turned in Atlas's arms. Straddled his lap.
Atlas made a sound. Not quite agreement. His hands came up to Noah's hips. "Something like that."
Noah leaned down. Kissed him slow. Thorough. Felt Atlas's grip tighten.
"How tired are you?" Noah asked against his mouth.
Atlas's eyes darkened. "Not that tired."
Noah smiled. Kissed him harder.
They made it to the bedroom eventually. Barely. Leaving a trail of clothes behind them.
---
After, they lay tangled together. Both breathing hard. Atlas's arm heavy across Noah's chest.
"I'll leave early tomorrow," Atlas said quietly. His voice already thick with sleep. "Before you wake up probably. Don't worry."
Noah nodded. Couldn't quite speak yet.
He turned in Atlas's arms. Kissed his neck. Just once. Soft.
Atlas pulled him closer. Already half-asleep. His breathing evening out.
Noah held him back. Listened to his heartbeat slow.
Just two days. He'll be back in two days.
But his mind kept circling back to his mom's message. The careful words. The sudden visit.
He pressed closer to Atlas. Felt the solid warmth of him. Real. Here. Now.
Two days.
Outside, the city hummed. Endless and awake. Sirens in the distance. The muted sound of traffic far below.
Noah closed his eyes. Tried to memorize this—the weight of Atlas's arm, the sound of his breathing, the way they fit together.
Tried not to think about what came after.