Re: [Outside the Rec Center.]
It was like Holly said. He, Noah, was an aberration, a fluke. Maybe even when it came to the self-preservational instinct of the dude atop him. Maybe it was the combination of the events that unfolded and timing that made him an exception. He didn't know, and, ultimately, he was pretty sure he didn't care, as long as he was an exception. The lies would all get undone—or so he hoped. Noah did want to listen to the words Holly said, instead of the riot of his emotions, but even Holly's words were contradiction. His actions were contradiction. And all it served to do was offer hope to a dude who always took to the flame to fan it. At some point, Holly would take a step back and Noah would see he'd fucked up, but, until then, the glare of all that giddy, stupid hope kept him blind and afloat.
He laughed. "Wait, wait, wait—what I mean is, I can always tell. So, no." Noah knew Holly could lie. He knew Holly could mold himself, that he did mold himself, but even in that first conversation, Noah had tried to pay him to 'be real.' Obviously, he hadn't totally been. It wasn't something you could pay someone to be. But, what Noah had wanted—what he still wanted—was Holly. As he was. So it was easy to answer his question. Noah smiled, more too-soft in the backseat of the car. "You."—And then, he obviously fucked up a little because Holly was backpedaling, rewinding. Noah looked up, a little sheepish, but, he moved out of himself—out of his sheepishness—quickly, as he tried to get what it was Holly was trying to say. It was when Holly said it was intimate with him, Noah, there, that it clicked. "I didn't think about that." He hadn't, which was probably selfish. "We don't have to try it, if you're not into it. I'd be down for it, but, like, I get wanting to keep it separate." Anticipating Holly's interpretation and concern, he continued: "And I won't get bored if we don't do it either."
Noah wanted to know more about the ant poem though. "Why? See, that's a unique take. Mine, uh, was about love." He laughed again, totally aware of how cliche it was. But, man, he'd really put thought into that stupid poem and its Shakespearean, funny-sounding words. Noah blinked softly as he traced his finger over Holly's lips. When cheek went to his chest, he then spread his touch lower, lulling. Holly was thinking, and Noah could feel the wheels turning. He knew the question was coming before it did, and his hand came back up to thread through hair. "It wasn't one thing. It was the culmination, right? You weren't you. You were kind of an ass, even when you were offering to bend over backwards for me. Kind of sarcastic. I don't know. You just weren't what I expected, I guess." Noah chewed his bottom lip, and asked the obvious: "What did I do?"
Fingers were at his shoulder and Holly was speaking. Noah looked down at him as best he could, not, like, interrupting or anything, even if his brows crashed together at 'your anonymous thing.' That seemed to be a real sticking point, dude. "I could end up hurt too. Not just because you could be sucked back through—whatever. Just... I wouldn't want you to do the anonymous thing, dude." Noah got why it was scary. Why he was. "I wouldn't do that. Talk to some dude. I mean, that's—you can see that that's different, right? I never did that, not with anyone I was with. Talk to someone else like that." That was sort of the point of the anonymous sex. It was anonymous and so un-intimate, it was possible to connect. When he'd done it while having girlfriends, that was how he made it work in his head. But, he'd never, like, gotten emotionally involved with anyone else.
Holly lifted his head. Noah blinked at him. He had an argument. About how he wasn't perfect, or even near it, so he couldn't be 'too good to be true.' But, then Holly stretched against him, mouth on his, Noah's, throat, and he was stupid, dude. He lifted his chin a little, and his hand that had been cushioning his head came down to rake down the dude's back with pressure enough to leave red marks on skin under all that fabric. After a second, he tried to catch the thread though. "I'm not though." His voice was quiet and close, and, look, he was easy to get going, especially when he hadn't stopped going.