05-26-2025, 10:22 PM
Jay was still hunched over, double-checking the laces on his wet boots when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and straightened slowly. He didn’t know what he expected, another kid probably. But instead, it was Nox.
Fresh from the shower. Damp skin flushed from the heat. Towel low on his hips. Water beading down his collarbone, glistening across his chest. Somehow, he looked more dangerous like this. Stripped of armor, raw, casual, and sexier than ever.
Jay blinked.
He hadn’t expected him so soon. Hadn’t expected him at all.
Shame pooled low in his stomach, not because of what happened, but because he hadn’t said goodbye. He’d just… slipped away. Like a coward. Like something half-formed, still running from things he wanted.
Nox’s voice rang out, casual as ever. “Sky, unblock Jay’s number so he can leave that text.”
Jay's stomach turned.
Unblock.
So that’s why the silence had been so fucking complete. Nox had cut him off. Entirely. A sharp little pang twisted under his ribs. Surprise, then disappointment, then something darker. He glanced at the ceiling, as if "Sky" were watching him from above. A home assistant, probably. Voice-activated security. Perfect. He was locked in with someone who had literally muted him from existence. The same someone he could still taste on the tongue.
Jay’s jaw tightened. “You’re locking me in now?” he muttered, low but sharp as a blade.
“What’d you do? Lock the doors? Going to tie me up if I try to walk out now? I know you want to.” The humor was a hint that the Jay Nox once knew was still inside his own head, but he was buried deep, afraid to come into the light.
Nox offered a drink. Whiskey and American, good stuff. The kind that usually would’ve softened the edge. Jay shook his head without even looking.
“No. I’m not drinking anymore.”
He realized, a moment later, how unusual that probably sounded. Nox had seen him half- and full-drunk more than once. Sometimes it had helped. Sometimes it had started fights. It probably sounded odd to him.
Just as he said, he tried the door. The handle was lodged.
“Of course, I can’t leave,” he muttered, biting back a curse.
He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through his ID screen, pausing at the glowing interface. Natalie’s name hovered there for a second. He stared. Then he tapped a quick message:
Got delayed. Ran into someone. Catching up. Be back later.
He didn’t say who. He didn’t explain. Not yet.
He tucked the wallet back and ran a hand through his hair, which was still damp and messy. Then rubbed a palm over the stubble along his jaw, trying to shake the tension crawling under his skin. The whiskey sat untouched on the counter.
Jay paced. Once. Twice. Then paused, arms folded.
His eyes flicked back toward the direction he came. Toward Nox’s bedroom. He imagined the man inside a few moments ago, toweling off. Getting dressed. Still damp. He could still taste Nox. Still feel the pressure of his mouth. The pull on his coat. That offer… silent, open, willing. His body was tight with denial, skin stretched over too much want and nowhere to put it.
Shit, he was still hard. Not visibly, not anymore, but the hunger lingered in the muscle of his thighs, in the heavy pulse at the base of his spine. The sight of Nox in that towel hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made it worse.
Jay rubbed his temple. This is fucking ridiculous. He caught himself staring toward the hallway again, jaw clenched, eyes dark.
He didn’t know where he was going. Just that he couldn’t stay. And yet, here he was. Trapped. Dripping. Torn. Aroused.
And then, footsteps. Soft, quiet. He hadn’t heard them until she was practically at his side. Young. Maybe 20s. Pale. Tall. Thin but muscular and fit. Her hair was damp at the ends, like she’d also come in from the sleet. Her eyes met his, and something passed through them. Recognition. But he didn’t recognize her. Her breath caught. Her body stiffened like she was bracing for impact, as if just seeing him stirred something dangerous.
“Uh, well, seems Nox locked down the doors, so I can’t run if I wanted to.” He glanced back at Nox as if he might offer an explanation.
Fresh from the shower. Damp skin flushed from the heat. Towel low on his hips. Water beading down his collarbone, glistening across his chest. Somehow, he looked more dangerous like this. Stripped of armor, raw, casual, and sexier than ever.
Jay blinked.
He hadn’t expected him so soon. Hadn’t expected him at all.
Shame pooled low in his stomach, not because of what happened, but because he hadn’t said goodbye. He’d just… slipped away. Like a coward. Like something half-formed, still running from things he wanted.
Nox’s voice rang out, casual as ever. “Sky, unblock Jay’s number so he can leave that text.”
Jay's stomach turned.
Unblock.
So that’s why the silence had been so fucking complete. Nox had cut him off. Entirely. A sharp little pang twisted under his ribs. Surprise, then disappointment, then something darker. He glanced at the ceiling, as if "Sky" were watching him from above. A home assistant, probably. Voice-activated security. Perfect. He was locked in with someone who had literally muted him from existence. The same someone he could still taste on the tongue.
Jay’s jaw tightened. “You’re locking me in now?” he muttered, low but sharp as a blade.
“What’d you do? Lock the doors? Going to tie me up if I try to walk out now? I know you want to.” The humor was a hint that the Jay Nox once knew was still inside his own head, but he was buried deep, afraid to come into the light.
Nox offered a drink. Whiskey and American, good stuff. The kind that usually would’ve softened the edge. Jay shook his head without even looking.
“No. I’m not drinking anymore.”
He realized, a moment later, how unusual that probably sounded. Nox had seen him half- and full-drunk more than once. Sometimes it had helped. Sometimes it had started fights. It probably sounded odd to him.
Just as he said, he tried the door. The handle was lodged.
“Of course, I can’t leave,” he muttered, biting back a curse.
He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through his ID screen, pausing at the glowing interface. Natalie’s name hovered there for a second. He stared. Then he tapped a quick message:
Got delayed. Ran into someone. Catching up. Be back later.
He didn’t say who. He didn’t explain. Not yet.
He tucked the wallet back and ran a hand through his hair, which was still damp and messy. Then rubbed a palm over the stubble along his jaw, trying to shake the tension crawling under his skin. The whiskey sat untouched on the counter.
Jay paced. Once. Twice. Then paused, arms folded.
His eyes flicked back toward the direction he came. Toward Nox’s bedroom. He imagined the man inside a few moments ago, toweling off. Getting dressed. Still damp. He could still taste Nox. Still feel the pressure of his mouth. The pull on his coat. That offer… silent, open, willing. His body was tight with denial, skin stretched over too much want and nowhere to put it.
Shit, he was still hard. Not visibly, not anymore, but the hunger lingered in the muscle of his thighs, in the heavy pulse at the base of his spine. The sight of Nox in that towel hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made it worse.
Jay rubbed his temple. This is fucking ridiculous. He caught himself staring toward the hallway again, jaw clenched, eyes dark.
He didn’t know where he was going. Just that he couldn’t stay. And yet, here he was. Trapped. Dripping. Torn. Aroused.
And then, footsteps. Soft, quiet. He hadn’t heard them until she was practically at his side. Young. Maybe 20s. Pale. Tall. Thin but muscular and fit. Her hair was damp at the ends, like she’d also come in from the sleet. Her eyes met his, and something passed through them. Recognition. But he didn’t recognize her. Her breath caught. Her body stiffened like she was bracing for impact, as if just seeing him stirred something dangerous.
“Uh, well, seems Nox locked down the doors, so I can’t run if I wanted to.” He glanced back at Nox as if he might offer an explanation.
Only darkness shows you the light.