Noah

“Wait, I think I like this one the best,” I said, laughing. I read it out loud, “’Royal Marriage in Flames: Naughty Noah seen out with pop star Avery Matthews!’” I looked at Gabriel and Lucas, “So who’s Avery Matthews?”

Gabriel laughed but Lucas was the one who answered me.

“He was on one of those teen idol shows a few years ago. Funny though, he was really Gabe’s ex.”

“Great, they’ll probably suggest a three-way next,” I sighed.

“Don’t be silly, we could do a lot better than Avery for a three-way,” Gabriel declared.

“I think I’d like to with a single person first before trying out more…acrobatic things,” I said.

Gabriel and Lucas both stared at me.

“Have you really never--?”

“Like, not ever?”

“No,” I said, raising an eyebrow at their surprise. “That’s normal, isn’t it?”

“Er,” Lucas began, and stopped when Gabriel glared at him, “That’s totally normal, yeah. I know loads of people who’ve never…”

“So are you waiting for marriage?” Gabriel asked intently.

“Not really, I just didn’t have time to think about it much. I’ve been too busy for the past few years,” I shrugged.

“Busy?” Gabriel repeated, sounding baffled, “Busy? How long does it take other people to have a quick, anonymous fuck?”

“Gabe,” Lucas said, looking like he was trying not to laugh, “Some people are looking for slightly more than a warm body when they want to have sex with someone.”

“Yeah, I think I’d rather have sex with someone I actually had romantic feelings for,” I deadpanned. “Is that all right with you, Gabriel?”

“None of my business,” Gabriel said, shrugging.

I eyed him suspiciously.

“You’re sure? You were singing a different tune a minute ago.”

“And then I realized it’s nothing to do with me who you sleep with,” Gabriel said with finality.

I exchanged a confused look with Lucas at Gabriel’s tone. He sounded almost—angry.

“Right,” Lucas said slowly. “Well, I’m heading out. I’ll see you two later.”

He hugged Gabriel and me perfunctorily and left, with the slightest lines of tension around his eyes, I thought privately.

“Do you get the feeling there’s something bothering Lucas?” Gabriel asked. So I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, then.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I don’t know him well enough to ask him, I think.”

“Yeah, he’s all about the royal protocol, our Luca. I suppose I could ask him, and he’d be obligated to answer me…but I’m hoping he’ll come out with it on his own.”

He noticed my surprise.

“What?” he said defensively.

“Nothing,” I said, amused. “I just didn’t think you’d be capable of so much tact.”

“I’m tactful!” Gabriel said, looking outraged.

“Gabriel,” I said, “You have about as much tact as a comedian at a funeral.”

I couldn’t keep the affectionate teasing out of my voice, which didn’t seem to comfort him much, strangely.

“I can be tactful! I can be as tactful as a—a--!”

“Oh sure, sure,” I said soothingly.

The look of mingled outrage and surprise on his face transported me abruptly to the day we’d met.

 

I had to say though that it wasn’t nearly the worst place I’d had to work in over the years. My experience had left me with nerves of steel, and I was able to easily deal with the creepiest, loudest, and most disruptive customers with ease.

Which was why, when I saw a tall man in a coat stumble into the diner at 3 am, I just rolled my eyes and checked to make sure the baseball bat I kept behind the counter was still there.

It was.

The thing about Petrelli’s was that it was possibly the most unpretentious diner in the city. The tables were covered with formica, the pleather covering the booths was gentle ripped and the stuffing was coming out, and the whole place was covered in a layer of oil and grease maybe an inch thick.

Which was why I did a double take when I got a good look at the alpha who’d just come in.

He was dressed in designer clothes, head to toe. His coat wasn’t flashy or made of mink or anything, but it was good quality wool that caught the eye, and fit him like it had been made for him. Later, I realized that it probably had been made specifically to his measurements.

He was wearing a three-piece suit underneath, like he was a banker from fifty years ago. Or, I guessed, a very wealthy and fashionable man in the year 2018. When he swept a hand through his hair, I caught a glimpse of cuff links that were probably worth my monthly rent or more.

The most startling thing about him, however, was how astoundingly, jaw-droppingly attractive he was. He had penetrating eyes of the darkest blue, and a jawline so defined that he could have been a movie star. He couldn’t have been an inch under six foot four, and the layers of clothes he wore couldn’t hide the powerful muscles of his arms and thighs.

“Are you lost?” I said.

“Fuck you mean?” He slurred at me with difficulty.

Ah, this made much more sense. Not just lost, but drunk and lost.

“I mean, this probably isn’t the kind of place you find yourself in normally, I assume,” I replied.

Luckily, I was the only one during the graveyard shift and nobody would report me for trash talking my employer.

“You don’t know nothin’ about me,” he said, glaring at me. “Nothin’,” he added for emphasis.

“Sure, man,” I said, raising my arms defensively. “Whatever you say. What’ll you have to eat? The bacon doughnut? The chilly fries with fried bacon and ham? The double double burger? Guaranteed to give you heart problems!”

“Ca—r,” he said indistinctly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry?”

“Caviar. Caviar! Caviar!”

“All right, I heard you!” I said, feeling amused in spite of myself. “Listen guy, you’re clearly too wasted to have a clue about where you are, so I’m going to do you a favor and call you a cab.”

“No!” he said indignantly. To my alarm, he began thumping his fist on the counter and chanting, “Ca-vi-ar! Ca-vi-ar!”

“We don’t have any!” I said helplessly. “No—stop!”

I grabbed his hand, and to my surprise he didn’t protest. His eyes held the cloudy belligerence of the truly drunk.

“You probably won’t remember a single thing that happened here tonight anyway,” I said, fishing out my phone, “But for future reference, this really isn’t the kind of neighborhood a toff like you should be in. You could get mugged or killed.”

“Could not,” he said obstinately. “I could take them. How about that caviar?”

“Um, there’s been a caviar…shortage in the city. We haven’t got a shipment through for weeks,” I improvised wildly.

His face fell almost comically.

“None…anywhere?” He said, looking horrified.

“Yeah. Sorry man,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, why don’t I call you a cab before someone decides to sell your fancy suit and then your organs, yeah?”

“Fancy suit?” he repeated, looking down at himself, apparently confused. “This is a day suit,” he said with distaste. “Not even a tux!”

“You went out in public like that?”

“Didn’t have time to change,” he muttered, looking vaguely embarrassed. “We’ve been hitting the clubs since 11 am.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or horrified,” I said. “What’s your address?”

“Hotel,” he said.

“Great,” I said, with forced patience. “Any idea which hotel?”

“Nice one,” he said unhelpfully.

“I bet. But I need you to narrow it down a little for me.”

“Chandelier,” he said. He was rummaging around in his pockets and to my horror took a swig out of a sizeable flask. “Good stuff,” he said with approval, shaking it at me in offer.

“Yeah, no thanks, I’m on the job.”

“Capitalzm. Pigs,” he said sympathetically.

“Totally. Now, about that hotel…?”

He screwed up his face, trying to remember for my sake more than his.

“On the river?” he offered hopefully.

“Well shit! That’s about an hour away by car. I can’t afford that,” I said, dismayed. “Do you have any money on you?”

“N’vr carry money!” he said, guffawing. “Like—paper and little clinky coins?”

“Must be nice,” I said, putting up a hand to cover my eyes.

God, this was a mess. Unfortunately I just wasn’t capable of not helping someone who was so obviously out of their depth, more fool me.

“How’d you even get to this area? Kind of a shady place to land up for you.”

“Walked,” he said vaguely. “Cold. Wanted caviar,” he looked at me accusingly.

“Well, never mind that,” I said soothingly. “You know what, I’ve got an idea. Not a good one, but you won’t end up in the papers because they found your body weeks from now, so we’ll call that a win, all right?”

He seemed okay with the idea (at least he wasn’t actively fighting me) so I settled him in a booth with a plate of heart-stoppingly cheesy fries (they came with a crust of crisp bacon, of course) and waited for my replacement, Shawna, to come in at four thirty.

“All right, come on,” I said, grabbing my coat and beanie.

Shawne whistled admiringly when she saw who I was talking to.

“Boy, where did you find him? That man is a goddamn snack.”

“Thanks,” the man slurred, looking flattered.

“It’s not like that!” I said hastily, “I’m just letting him sleep it off at my flat tonight.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Sounds fake, but okay.”

“There will be no sex whatsoever,” I said firmly, ignoring the man’s crestfallen look. “Actually, I don’t even know your name. What do I call you?”

He stood up grandly.

“You’ve the honor of addressing His Royal Highness Gabriel blah blah blah blah blah.”

He didn’t actually say ‘blah blah blah blah blah’. But a combination of him slurring his words and him saying so many names made me not understand what he was saying at all.

“Very funny,” I grumbled, not believing for a second that he was telling the truth. In hindsight, I probably should have.

“I’ll just call you Gabriel then, shall I?” I said, taking him by the elbow. “Now, we’re going to my flat and you can sleep off the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve consumed on my couch. Only my couch,” I added sharply.

I didn’t want some strange drunk alpha to think this was any kind of sexual invitation because an omega was taking him home at night. Honestly though, he was probably too drunk to get it up.

“My neighborhood isn’t a lot better than where Petrelli’s is, honestly. But I know where not to go, so I’m like seventy percent sure we won’t get murdered.”

“Won’t be murdered,” Gabriel said indistinctively. “I c’n fight.”

“Great idea. Let’s try not to do that though. I forgot to ask, are you allergic to cats?”

“N’vr met a cat,” Gabriel said sounding interested, “Is she polite?”

“Uh…she’s usually quiet,” I said. “Her name’s Agatha. I call her Aggy. She was my sister’s cat before…anyway, I’ve had her for like three years now. She’s a sweetheart.”

“I had a horse,” Gabriel said, sounding morose, “Name was Maximus. Called him Max.”

In a nutshell, that little exchanged proved how wildly different our lives were.

“Was he a…good horse? Did he jump fences properly and everything?”

“He wasn’t a show horse,” he said, sounding outraged. “He was a proper stallion. Beautiful lines, he was bred from a famous racehorse. Heard of Octavian?”

“No, sorry.”

“Famous Arabian lineage,” he said, sounding wistful.

“How’s old Max doing now?”

“Had to put him down,” Gabriel said, sounding sad. “Bit too much. Bit me, bit Mama, bit the stable boys.”

“I’m really sorry,” I said.

“S’ok,” he said, leaning companionably against me.

We had walked the ten blocks to my flat. Gabriel stood behind me and squinted up at the rows of darkened windows as I fumbled for my keys.

“You live here?” he said, sounding surprised.

“Yeah,” I said, throwing him a glance over my shoulder. “Why?”

“Looks a bit…murder-y.”

He had a point. I couldn’t afford to live in the nicest place. In fact, it was the shittiest and cheapest place I could find, so the paint was peeling, the doorbell didn’t work and my key got stuck in the door more than half the time.

The fluorescent lights blinked on and off, giving it a bit of a slasher fic-vibe. There were some rust-colored stains on the walls that I tried hard not to think about.

Also my apartment had rats, but they stayed out of my way and Agatha did a good job of keeping the situation under control.

“At least it means you have a place to sleep,” I said bracingly. “Come on up.”

Aggy came up to us, meowing and sniffed curiously at Gabriel, who looked ridiculously larger than life in comparison with my shabby, lint and cat hair-covered couch and rickety table.

 

“What’re you thinking about?” Gabriel asked curiously.

He was curled up on the chaise lounge like a cat, lazily flipping through a book.

“Just about that night at Petrelli’s.”

“What, that place you worked at? God, that was vile. I don’t remember much of it, but that smell…I couldn’t get it out of that suit. I had to throw it away in the end,” he shuddered ostentatiously.

“Ha! Yeah, that smell. One of my coworkers said it felt like was physically pressing down on you.”

“I agree with them. I’d forgotten about your cat, too. How’s she doing?”

“Aggy? She’s good, my friend was looking in on her but then I got her set up at a cat hotel.”

“You did not!”

“I swear I did! What’s so unbelievable about that?”

“I just don’t believe that cat hotels are a thing. Hold on, let me look this up.”

“Go ahead. It’s called Purrfect Luxury Suites for Felines.”

“Oh my god. This…exists. ‘Each themed suite represents the pinnacle of luxury for your four-legged friend. Our expert chefs lovingly prepare meals that will be served on bone china’!”

“You haven’t gotten to the part where they have their own private Japanese rock gardens to chase birds around.”

“Holy shit.”

“I thought it was a great use of my money.”

“Oh no, I’m sure it was. Aggy’s living better than we are.”

“I forgot to thank you, by the way, for emptying her litter box and filling her bowl before you left that morning. I actually got a few hours’ sleep without her frantically yelling for breakfast. It was nice.”

“I’m glad. I wanted to…to say goodbye before leaving but…well, I didn’t.”

“I think my best case expectation for the morning was you calling the police because you’d been kidnapped, so you leaving after feeding my cat and letting me sleep in definitely exceeded that.”

“I’m glad. And I’m glad you don’t have to live in that apartment building anymore. It was, um…”

“I think you called it ‘murder-y’ that night.”

“Drunk-me was more right than he knew.”

“Yep. I’m glad too, Gabriel. And I’m glad we got to meet again, too.”

“Really? Even besides the money?’

“Well, you’re not a completely repulsive person, Gabriel.”

“Noah, that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”