Noah woke before his alarm.
Reached for his phone. Checked the time. 6:47 AM.
Stared at the ceiling.
Atlas.
"Not going." He said it out loud. To the empty room. "I'm not going to dinner."
His chest disagreed. Tightened. Hard.
He got up. Went to the bathroom. Turned on the shower.
Hot water. Then cold. Shock himself into clarity.
Under the spray, his hands moved automatic. Shampoo. Too much. Foam everywhere.
Stop thinking about him.
Rinsed. Grabbed the body wash. Squeezed. Way too much.
The shower turned into a foam bath.
"Fuck." He stood under the water. Let it run. "Fuck, Atlas."
After, he wrapped a towel around his waist. Looked in the mirror.
Touched his hair. Still dripping.
"You're losing it."
Maybe.
He got dressed. The new suit. Dark gray. White shirt. Spent too long picking a tie.
Stood in front of his cologne. The new one.
Reached for it. Stopped.
Noah grabbed the new one. Sprayed once. Twice. Then again.
"Fuck." He wiped it off immediately. Too late. The scent everywhere.
---
Sunny waited by the door. Tail already wagging.
"Morning, girl."
The park. Early sun. Few people out.
Sunny ran ahead. Noah followed. Hands in his pockets.
Last night. Atlas in that tuxedo. The way he'd looked at Noah. That voice dropping low.
His face heated.
Stop it.
He pulled out his phone. Checked messages. Work stuff. Nothing from Atlas.
Good. That's good.
Liar.
Back home. Marcus in the kitchen.
"Morning." Marcus looked him over. Grinned. "Someone's wearing a lot of cologne."
Noah froze. "What?"
"You smell like you bathed in it." Marcus laughed. "Who is he?"
"There's no—I didn't—"
"Right." Marcus's grin widened. "No one at all."
Noah grabbed his keys. "See you tonight."
Got in his car. Started the engine. Then stopped.
Put his forehead on the steering wheel.
"You're not going to dinner." His voice barely audible. "You're not."
Looked up at the rearview mirror.
That stupid smile on his face.
"Fuck."
---
The office. Jenna at her desk.
"Morning!" She looked up. Her smile turned knowing. "Big plans tonight?"
Noah blinked. "What?"
"You look—" She gestured vaguely. "I don't know. Different. Good different."
"Just a regular day."
"Mm-hmm." She didn't believe him.
His office. Computer on. Emails loading.
Focused on work. Didn't let himself think about—
Atlas.
There he was again. In his head. In that tuxedo. That cologne.
Noah forced his attention back to the screen. Meetings. Reports. New hires to interview.
Hours blurred.
His phone sat face-up on his desk. He glanced at it. Often.
Nothing.
Good.
Right?
Lunch came and went. He forgot to eat.
By five o'clock his stomach was empty. His chest tight.
He's not coming. He would've texted by now.
Relief or disappointment? Couldn't tell.
He opened another report. Tried to focus.
Then felt it. That awareness. Someone watching.
Looked up.
Atlas.
Standing in the doorway. Shoulder against the frame. Looking right at him.
Noah's breath stopped.
Atlas in a navy suit. Hair perfect. That expression—focused, hungry.
Their eyes met.
Everything in Noah wanted to look away. Protect himself.
Couldn't.
He stood. Slow. His team glanced over. Noticed Atlas. A few smiled, looked away quick.
Noah heard Sarah whisper: "Is that—"
"Yeah," Jenna whispered back. "The boyfriend."
Ex-boyfriend, Noah wanted to say. But was he?
Noah walked to the door. Each step measured. Controlled.
"Hi." His voice came out steadier than he felt.
"Hi." Atlas's eyes never left his face.
They stood there. Glass walls on three sides. His whole team watching without watching.
Noah moved closer. Kept his voice low. "This is a glass office."
"I know." Atlas didn't move.
"They can see you."
"Let them."
Noah's jaw tightened. His throat closed. "Don't—don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
Like you still have the right to.
"You know what."
Atlas's mouth curved. Small. Almost sad. "Have dinner with me."
Noah opened his mouth to say no.
"I haven't eaten since breakfast." Atlas's voice dropped. Rough. "Neither have you."
How does he—
"I saw your trash can. No lunch wrappers."
Of course he noticed.
"I was going to—"
"Come with me." Not quite begging. Close. "Please."
Say no. Just say no.
Noah's hands clenched at his sides. His nails bit into his palms.
"I—" Noah stopped. His chest squeezed. Painful. "Okay."
What are you doing?
They walked out together. His team's eyes following. Quiet smiles exchanged.
The elevator. Just the two of them.
Noah stared at the numbers. Descending. Atlas stood beside him. Close enough Noah caught his scent. Bergamot and smoke.
God.
His hands clenched harder. White-knuckled.
The parking garage. Atlas gestured to his car.
"I'll follow you." Noah's voice firm. Need the escape route.
"Okay."
They drove separate. Noah behind Atlas's Tesla. Watching his taillights.
You can still turn around. Go home. Text him you changed your mind.
He didn't turn around.
---
The restaurant. French. Intimate lighting. Too romantic.
They sat. Across from each other. White tablecloth between them.
Noah picked up the menu. Studied it without reading.
"This place opened two years ago," he said. Couldn't help himself.
Atlas looked up. Something flickered in his eyes. "I know."
"You said it was new."
"I wanted—" Atlas set down his menu. His hand flat on the table. Fingers spread. "I wanted to come here with you."
Noah's chest squeezed. He looked back at the menu. The words blurred.
The waiter came. Took their order. Left.
Silence.
Atlas's fingers tapped the table. Once. Twice. Stopped. His jaw clenched.
He's nervous.
"How's work?" Atlas asked.
Noah set down his menu. "Are we really doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Small talk. Pretending everything's normal."
Atlas's fingers stopped tapping. Curled into his palm. "I thought—"
"I know what you thought." Noah's voice hard. Each word clipped. "That we'd have a nice dinner, talk about projects, and then what? Go home together?"
"Noah—"
"I came because I wanted to hear what you have to say. Not because I want to pretend the last six weeks didn't happen."
Silence.
Atlas's jaw worked. The muscle jumping. His hand opened. Closed. Opened again.
Then: "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't—" He stopped. Breathed. "I don't know how to do this."
"Try the truth."
"Okay." Atlas set down his menu. Looked at Noah directly. Really looked. "I'm terrified. That this is my only shot. That I'll say the wrong thing and you'll leave. So I'm—" His voice dropped. "I'm stalling."
Noah stared at him.
The honesty—raw, unpolished—did something to his anger.
Made it harder to hold.
"Stop stalling," Noah said quietly.
"Okay."
Food came. They ate without tasting.
Atlas barely touched his. Just moved it around his plate.
Noah forced himself to swallow. Each bite like cardboard.
"Can we—" Atlas stopped. His hand reached across the table. Stopped halfway. Fingers hovering. "Can we talk? Really talk?"
Noah stared at Atlas's hand. Inches from his own. His throat closed.
The same hand that used to hold his. The same one that—
He pulled his hand back. Into his lap. Safe.
Atlas's face—something broke there. Just for a second. Then controlled again.
"About what?" Noah's voice came out rough.
"Us." Atlas's hand moved closer. Still not touching. "Please."
Noah looked at that hand. Then at Atlas's face. Those eyes. Desperate. Open.
Can I do this?
"Okay." Noah's voice barely there. "But not here."
"The yacht?" Atlas's voice careful. "Or anywhere else. Your choice."
Noah looked out the window. Cars passing. People living normal lives.
Then back at Atlas. Waiting. Hoping. Terrified.
"Okay."
The bill arrived.
Noah reached for it. "We can split—"
Atlas's hand covered the check first. Firm. Calm.
"No," he said quietly. "I'll take care of it."
Noah opened his mouth to argue—then stopped.
Atlas had already given his card.
Another small distance closed.
Or maybe it opened.
---
The marina. Sunset turning the water gold and pink.
They walked side by side. Not touching. But close. So close Noah felt the pull. That magnetic thing between them.
Their fingers brushed. Once.
Both pulled away.
Like touching burned.
The yacht. Familiar. Too familiar.
Up to the deck. Atlas unlocked the cabin. They went inside.
Took off their jackets. Noah draped his over a chair. Atlas disappeared into the galley.
"Water? Coffee?"
"Water."
Atlas brought two bottles. His hand shook slightly giving one to Noah.
They sat. Not across from each other this time. Same couch. Three feet of space between them.
Outside, the water moved. Gentle waves against the hull. A gull cried somewhere distant.
They sat in silence.
Noah's hands wrapped around the water bottle. Cold against his palms. Grounding.
Atlas leaned forward. Elbows on his knees. Stared at his hands. His fingers laced together. Knuckles white.
"I'm sorry."
Noah didn't answer.
"For everything." Atlas's voice quiet. Raw. "For the last six weeks. For—" He stopped. Swallowed hard. "For shutting you out."
Noah looked at him. Profile illuminated by the fading light through the window. The sharp line of his jaw. Clenched tight.
"You did more than shut me out."
Atlas turned his head. Met his eyes.
"I know."
"Do you?" Noah's voice harder than he meant. "You disappeared, Atlas. You left at dawn. Came home after midnight. Wouldn't look at me. Barely spoke to me."
"I was trying to fix—"
"Don't." Noah held up his hand. "Don't say you were protecting me."
Atlas's jaw clenched. Muscle jumping. His hands gripped his knees. Hard.
"Richard and Thomas." His voice tight. Controlled. "They were threatening you. Your company. I found evidence. Fraud. Embezzlement. Millions."
"I know that now."
"If they knew you knew—"
"So you made a deal." Noah's voice flat. "Blackmailed them. Got them to back off." He paused. "And didn't tell me."
"I couldn't—"
"Why?" The word exploded out. "Why couldn't you tell me? Why couldn't you say 'I'm dealing with something, can't give details yet, but I will'? Why did you have to make me feel crazy?"
Atlas flinched. Actual physical recoil. His shoulders hunched.
Noah stood. Couldn't sit anymore. Walked to the window.
The city lights starting to come on. Pinpricks of gold across the skyline.
"Do you know what it was like?" Noah's voice shook. His hands pressed against the glass. Cold. "Lying in bed every night wondering where you were? If you were with someone else? If you even—"
He stopped. Breathed.
Atlas stood. Took a step. Stopped himself. His hand reached out. Fell back to his side.
"I called you eleven times." Noah turned. Looked at him. "That day. Before I completely fell apart. Eleven fucking times."
"I was in meetings—"
Noah laughed. Sharp. Ugly. The sound surprised even him.
"Bullshit." He turned away. Couldn't look at Atlas. His hands clenched. "You know what I thought? That eleventh call?"
Atlas didn't answer.
"I thought you were dead." Noah's voice broke. "Or that you'd finally—" He stopped. Shook his head. Couldn't say it.
Found someone better. Someone easier. Someone who didn't need so much.
Silence. Long. Painful.
The water lapped against the hull. Steady. Mocking.
Atlas moved. Noah heard him stand. Footsteps behind him. Close.
"Don't—" Noah held up his hand without turning. "Don't touch me right now. I can't—"
Atlas stopped. Noah could feel him there. Close but not touching. The heat of his body.
"I thought you didn't want me anymore," Noah whispered. "That you'd found someone else. That I'd been so—so needy and exhausting that you couldn't—"
His voice shattered completely.
Atlas made a sound. Choked. Broken.
"God, Noah—"
"I'm not finished." Noah turned. His face wet. He didn't care. "You made me feel crazy. Like I was imagining things. Like I was the problem."
Atlas's face—wrecked. Tears on his cheeks. Not bothering to hide them.
"You were never the problem." His voice barely there. "Never. Not once."
"Then why?" Noah stepped closer. "Why couldn't you tell me? Why couldn't you let me be your partner instead of—of someone to protect?"
Atlas's hands came up. Covered his face. His shoulders shook.
Noah had never seen this. Never. Atlas always so controlled, so—
A sound escaped. Raw. Broken. Atlas trying to muffle it.
His knees gave. He caught himself on the window frame. One hand white-knuckled against the glass.
"I'm sorry." His voice destroyed. "I'm so—I can't—"
He slid down. Back against the window. Knees pulled up. Face in his hands.
Sobbing. Actually sobbing.
Noah stood frozen. This man—his Atlas—completely shattered on the floor.
Part of him wanted to go to him. Hold him. Fix it.
The other part—the broken part—just watched.
Let him feel it. Let him hurt like I hurt.
But then Atlas looked up. His face—god, his face. Red. Swollen. Destroyed.
"I thought—" Atlas's breath hitched. "I thought if I fixed everything, made it all safe, you'd never have to be scared. Never have to—"
He couldn't finish. Just pressed his palms against his eyes again. Hard enough to hurt.
"And instead—" His voice cracked. "Instead I made you think I didn't want you. That there was someone else. I made you—" He stopped. Shook his head. "I did the one thing I was trying to prevent. I hurt you."
Noah moved. Didn't decide to. Just—did.
Knelt in front of him. Still not touching.
"Look at me."
Atlas's hands dropped. His eyes—red, swollen, destroyed—met Noah's.
"You can't fix everything," Noah said. His voice rough. "I don't need you to."
"Then what do you need?" Atlas's voice desperate. Breaking.
Noah opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
"Just you." His voice cracked. "Just—you. Here. With me. Not handling things alone."
Atlas's face crumpled again. "I don't know how to do that."
"Learn." Noah's hands clenched on his own knees. "Figure it out. Get help. I don't care. But don't shut me out again."
"I'm trying—" Atlas stopped. His hand raked through his hair. Pulled. Like he could pull the right words out. "I've been—fuck."
He turned away. Couldn't look at Noah. His hands shaking.
"I've been seeing someone."
Noah's stomach dropped. "What?"
"A therapist." Atlas turned back fast. "I'm seeing a therapist."
Relief. Then confusion. "You're—what?"
"Started two weeks ago." Atlas's jaw worked. Muscle jumping. "Alice—after that night at Marcus's she said I needed professional help. She was right."
Noah couldn't breathe. "You're in therapy?"
"Twice a week." Atlas looked at his hands. Opened them. Closed them. Like he didn't know what to do with them. "I know it doesn't fix anything. I know I hurt you. But I'm trying—I'm really trying to be better."
"What—" Noah's voice cracked. "What are you working on?"
Atlas's jaw clenched. This was hard for him. Admitting weakness.
"She asked me why I couldn't tell you. All of it." He stopped. Swallowed hard. "And I said because I was protecting you."
He laughed. Broken. Bitter.
"And she said that's bullshit. That I was protecting myself. From seeing you scared. From feeling helpless." His voice dropped. "She was right."
Noah stared at him.
"I was so fucking scared of losing you that I—" Atlas's breath came out ragged. "I pushed you away instead. Did the one thing guaranteed to make you leave."
His hands went to his face. Covered his eyes.
"She says I use protection as control. Like if I can handle everything, fix everything, then nothing can hurt you. But that's—" He stopped. "That's not protection. That's me trying to feel less helpless. Less terrified."
Noah watched him. This man. Breaking open in front of him.
"I know it's bullshit," Atlas said. His voice rough. "I know saying it doesn't fix it. Knowing and changing are—" He stopped. Looked at Noah. "It's fucking hard. Every instinct I have tells me to fix things alone. To not burden you. To—"
His voice broke completely.
"But I'm trying. I swear I'm trying."
Silence.
Noah's hands shook slightly. He pressed them against his thighs.
"If we—" Noah stopped. Drew a breath. "If we try this again. Things have to be different."
Atlas looked up. Hope there. Fragile. Terrified.
"Anything."
"No more shutting me out." Noah's voice firm. "If something's wrong, you tell me. That day. Not weeks later."
"Okay."
"If you can't give me details, you say 'I'm handling something, can't talk yet, but I will.' You don't just disappear on me."
"I can do that."
"And if something is threatening me or my company?" Noah leaned forward. "We deal with it together. You don't go behind my back. You don't make decisions for me. We're partners or we're nothing."
"Partners." Atlas's voice rough. "I can—yes. Partners."
"And therapy." Noah held his gaze. "We go together. Both of us. I—" His voice softened. "I need help too. "
Atlas's breath caught. "You'll come with me?"
"If you want me to."
"I want—" Atlas's voice broke. "I want everything. I want to fix this. I want us."
Noah looked at him. Really looked.
This man. His Atlas. Broken and trying to rebuild himself.
Can I do this again? Can I risk it?
His heart was screaming yes. His head screaming no.
He couldn't speak. Throat too tight.
Instead—
His hand moved. Slow. Shaking.
Touched Atlas's face. Thumb wiping away tears.
Atlas leaned into it. Eyes closing. Like he'd been starving for this.
Like Noah's touch was oxygen and he'd been drowning.
"I'm terrified," Noah whispered.
Atlas's eyes opened. Met his. "Me too."
"If you hurt me again—" Noah's voice broke. "I won't survive it."
"I know." Atlas's hand came up. Covered Noah's. On his face. Held it there. "I know."
Silence. Just their breathing. Just that touch.
Noah leaned forward. Rested his forehead against Atlas's.
"Okay," he breathed. "Okay."
Atlas's breath came out shaky. Relief. Terror. Hope.
"Okay?"
Noah nodded. Their foreheads still pressed together. His eyes closed.
"We can try."
Atlas's arms came around him. Pulled him close. Crushed him against his chest.
Both of them shaking. Both of them crying. Both of them holding on like drowning.
No more words. Just this.
Holding each other. Choosing each other. Despite everything.
Noah's face pressed into Atlas's neck. Breathing him in. Bergamot and smoke and Atlas.
Atlas's hand in his hair. Gentle. Reverent. His other arm tight around Noah's waist.
Minutes passed. Hours. Time stopped meaning anything.
Finally Noah pulled back. Looked at Atlas.
Red eyes. Wet face. Completely undone.
Atlas's hands came up. Cupped Noah's face. Thumbs wiping away tears.
"I love you." His voice wrecked. "I love you so much."
Noah couldn't speak. Throat too tight.
Atlas leaned his forehead against Noah's.
Just breathing. Together.
"Say something," Atlas whispered. "Please."
Noah pulled back. Looked at him.
"I love you too." His voice broke. "God help me, I still love you."
Atlas kissed him.
Soft. Tentative. Asking permission.
Noah kissed back. Gentle. Testing.
They pulled apart. Looked at each other.
"Too fast?" Atlas asked.
"Maybe." Noah touched his forehead again. "I don't know."
They sat like that. Foreheads together. Breathing each other's air.
Outside, the sun had set completely. City lights reflected on dark water.
"Stay tonight," Atlas said. "Or I'll take you home. Whatever you need."
Noah pulled back. Looked around the yacht. This place. So many memories.
Can I do this?
His body answered before his mind. Leaned into Atlas. Needed him close.
"I'll stay." His voice quiet. "But slow. We go slow."
"As slow as you need."
They stood. Atlas's hand found Noah's. Laced their fingers together.
Led him to the bedroom.
They stood there awkward. The bed between them.
"I can take the couch," Atlas offered.
"No." Noah sat on the bed. "Stay."
They got ready for bed. Separate. Giving each other space.
Then lay down. Space between them.
Noah stared at the ceiling. Atlas did the same.
"Can I—" Atlas's voice uncertain. "Can I hold you?"
Noah turned. Looked at him in the dark.
Nodded.
Atlas moved closer. Slow. His arm came around Noah.
Noah pressed back against him. Atlas's warmth. His smell. Everything familiar.
Everything he'd missed.
"Missed this," Noah whispered.
Atlas buried his face in Noah's neck. Breathed him in.
His lips touched the skin there. Soft. Not quite a kiss.
Noah's breath caught.
Atlas stilled. "Too much?"
"No." Noah's voice came out rough. His hand found Atlas's. On his chest. Held it there. "Don't—don't stop."
Atlas's mouth moved. Gentle. Testing. Kissing the spot below Noah's ear.
Noah's breath caught. But not from pleasure.
His body went rigid.
Atlas stilled immediately. Pulled back. "What's wrong?"
"I don't—" Noah's hands clutched the sheets. "I'm scared."
"Of me?"
"That you'll leave again." The words tumbled out. Broken. Raw. "That I'll wake up and you'll be gone and this was just—"
Atlas turned him. Fast. Made him face him.
His hands cupped Noah's face. "I'm not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not—" His voice cracked. "Not ever. I swear."
Noah searched his face. Looking for the lie. The escape route.
Found none.
"Show me," he whispered. "Show me you're here."
Atlas kissed him. Slow. Deep. Trying to prove it with his mouth.
Noah kissed back. Desperate now. Trying to believe.
His hands fisted in Atlas's shirt. Pulled him closer.
Atlas responded. His hand sliding into Noah's hair. Gripping. Gentle but desperate.
They broke apart. Both breathing hard.
"Are you sure?" Atlas's voice wrecked. "We don't have to—"
"I'm sure." Noah pulled at Atlas's shirt. "I need—I need to feel you."
Atlas helped him. Pulled his shirt over his head. Tossed it somewhere.
Noah's hands found his chest. His ribs. Touching. Memorizing.
Making sure he was solid. Here. Real.
"Missed you." His voice broke. "Missed this. Missed us."
Atlas caught his hands. Brought them to his mouth. Kissed Noah's knuckles. His palms. Each finger.
"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
He rolled them. Noah on his back. Atlas above him.
Looked down at him. Eyes dark. Pupils blown wide.
"You're so—" Atlas stopped. Couldn't find words.
His hand slid under Noah's shirt. Warm. Trembling slightly.
Noah arched into the touch. "Please."
Atlas pulled the shirt off. Slow. Like unwrapping something precious.
Then stopped. Just looked.
"What?" Noah's voice self-conscious.
"You cut your hair." Atlas's fingers traced Noah's jaw. His neck. "Changed your cologne."
"Yeah."
"Trying to forget me?"
Noah looked away. "Trying to move on."
Atlas's hand cupped his face. Made him look back.
"Did it work?"
"No." Noah's voice rough. Raw. "Nothing worked. You were everywhere."
Atlas kissed him again. Hungry now. Desperate.
Noah's hands went to his back. Nails dragging. Not gentle.
Atlas groaned. His mouth moved to Noah's jaw. His neck. Kissing. Biting softly.
"Two weeks," Noah gasped. "Felt like forever."
"I know. I know." Atlas's voice against his skin. "Every day. Every fucking day I thought about you."
His hand slid down. Found the waistband of Noah's pants.
Stopped. Looked up.
"Yes or no?"
"Yes." Noah lifted his hips. "Yes. God, yes."
Atlas pulled them off. Slow. Maintained eye contact the whole time.
Noah lay there. Exposed. Vulnerable.
Atlas looked at him like he was seeing art. Something sacred.
"Perfect." His voice barely there. "So perfect."
Noah reached for him. "Come here."
Atlas covered him. Skin on skin. The contact sent electricity through both of them.
They gasped together.
"Fuck," Noah breathed. "I forgot—"
"What?"
"How good you feel."
Atlas's hips rolled. Slow. Deliberate.
Noah's head fell back. Neck exposed. Throat working.
Atlas kissed it. Licked. Bit down gently.
"Mine." His voice rough. Possessive. "You're mine."
"Yes." Noah's nails dug into Atlas's shoulders. "Yours. Always yours."
Atlas's hand slid between them. Found Noah. Stroked.
Noah cried out. Tried to muffle it against Atlas's shoulder.
"Don't." Atlas lifted his head. Looked at him. "I want to hear you."
He moved his hand. Slow. Torturous.
Noah's breath came in gasps. His hips moving. Desperate. Chasing.
"Atlas—" His voice broke. "Please."
"Tell me what you need."
Noah pulled him down. Mouth at his ear. "You. Just you. All of you."
Atlas groaned. His control fracturing. Breaking.
"Say it." His voice rough. Demanding. "Say you're mine."
Noah's hands cupped his face. Made him look.
"I'm yours." His voice steady. Sure. "And you're mine."
Atlas's expression cracked. Something desperate there. Broken. Raw.
"Yeah." He kissed Noah. Hard. "Yeah, I'm yours."
He reached over. Nightstand. Found what he needed.
Prepared Noah. Careful. Gentle despite the urgency thrumming between them.
Noah pulled at him. "Now. Please now."
Atlas positioned himself. Looked down at Noah.
Their eyes met.
"I love you." Atlas's voice broke. "I love you so much."
"Show me." Noah pulled him down. "Show me."
Atlas pressed forward. Slow. Inch by inch.
Both of them gasping. Shaking.
When he was fully inside, they stopped. Just breathing. Eyes locked.
"Okay?" Atlas's voice strained. His whole body trembling with the effort to stay still.
"More than okay." Noah wrapped his legs around Atlas's waist. Pulled him deeper. "Move. Please move."
Atlas did. Slow at first. Long strokes. Deep.
Noah met each one. His hands everywhere. Atlas's back. His hair. His face.
"Missed you." Noah's voice broke. "Missed this. Missed—"
"I know. Me too. Every day. Every—"
Their mouths found each other. Kissing through the movements.
The pace increased. Desperate now. Urgent.
Atlas moved inside him. Slow. Deep. Building.
Noah's breath caught. His hands on Atlas's back. Feeling him. Here. Real.
"Look at me," Atlas said. "Noah. Look at me."
Noah opened his eyes.
Atlas's face above him. Intense. Open. Completely present.
"I love you." Atlas's voice broke. His rhythm faltered. "I love you so much I can't—"
He stopped moving. Just—stopped.
His forehead dropped to Noah's shoulder. His whole body shaking.
"I almost lost you." Barely audible. "I almost—"
He was crying. Noah felt the tears hot on his skin.
"Hey." Noah's hand in Atlas's hair. Gentle. "Hey, look at me."
Atlas lifted his head. Face wet. Wrecked.
"You didn't lose me." Noah pulled him down. Kissed him soft. "I'm here. We're here."
Atlas kissed him back. Desperate. Grateful. Broken.
Started moving again. Slower now. Like he was memorizing every second. Every touch. Every breath.
Noah met each movement. His hands everywhere. Holding on.
Both of them crying. Both of them together. Both of them home.
Atlas's hand between them again. Stroking Noah in time with his thrusts.
"Look at me." Atlas's voice commanded. Broken but demanding. "Noah. Look at me."
Noah opened his eyes. Met Atlas's gaze.
"Don't leave me again." Atlas's voice broke. "Please don't—"
"I won't. I won't. I promise—"
They held each other's gaze. Moving together. Falling apart together.
"Atlas—I'm—"
"I know. Me too. Come for me. Let me see you."
Noah shattered. Head thrown back. Atlas's name torn from his throat.
Atlas followed, whispering Noah's name.
They collapsed together. Hearts racing. Breathing hard.
Atlas pulled out carefully. Cleaned them both up with shaking hands.
Then gathered Noah close. Pulled him against his chest.
Noah pressed his face into Atlas's neck. His whole body shaking.
"Hey." Atlas's hand in his hair. "You okay?"
Noah nodded. Then shook his head. Then—
A sob. Sudden. Ugly.
"I was so scared." His voice muffled. Broken. "So fucking scared."
"I know. I know." Atlas held him tighter. Impossibly tight. "I'm sorry. I'm so—"
"Don't apologize again." Noah's nails dug into Atlas's back. Not sexual. Desperate. Holding on. "Just—don't leave. Please don't—"
"I won't. I swear I won't." Atlas kissed his head. His temple. His wet cheek. "I'm right here."
They stayed like that. Noah crying. Atlas holding him. Both of them wrecked.
This wasn't the sexy aftermath. This was the truth.
They'd had sex but the wound wasn't healed.
They'd reconnected but trust wasn't rebuilt.
This was just—the beginning.
Of trying again. Of choosing each other. Of learning how to be together without destroying each other.
Minutes passed. Noah's breathing evened. His grip on Atlas loosened slightly.
"I'm exhausted," he whispered.
"Sleep." Atlas's hand moved through his hair. Gentle. Soothing. "I'm not going anywhere."
Noah's eyes closed. His body relaxing incrementally.
Atlas held him. Watched him. This man. His Noah.
Back in his arms. Trusting him enough to fall asleep.
Outside, the water moved. Endless. Patient.
The yacht rocked gentle beneath them.
And for the first time in two weeks, Noah slept without nightmares.
Without that ache in his chest.
Because Atlas was here. Holding him. Real.
Not going anywhere.