The novelty of waking up with a warm body snoring lightly beneath him wasn’t lost on Noel. He allowed consciousness to steal in slowly, lifting him from pleasant dreams to an equally pleasant reality. Shane was in his bed, fast asleep, and still totally naked.

After their showers, they had tumbled beneath the covers together and made out for a while, until Shane’s persistent yawning prompted Noel to spoon him instead. Noel had fallen asleep pretty quickly, thanks to the aerobic workout of the last few hours. He clenched his asshole, pleased by the light throb still present. Shane had fucked him with an intensity that should have frightened Noel, but didn’t. Everything about their night together had been perfect.

Noel glanced at the alarm clock, unsurprised that he’d only slept a few hours. His system was set to being awake at two a.m., not napping with his…what? Boyfriend? Would Shane agree to that word? Probably. They hadn’t discussed it—hell, they hadn’t even managed a real date yet—and he wasn’t about to wake Shane to ask. Shane’s normal sleep patterns insisted on REM right now. It could wait until morning.

He dozed a while, enjoying having Shane in his arms, until his bladder insisted he get up and take a piss. After he slipped into a pair of shorts, he took a chair over to the bathroom and read in a beam of light from the mostly closed door. Shane’s breathy snoring stuttered a few times, broken by mumbled words. Nothing Noel understood. Dreaming.

Sooner or later he’d have to tell Shane about the thing that gave him nightmares. The thing that had put those scars on his chest. The reason he felt so responsible for Tristan and his wellbeing. He trusted Shane enough to share that secret. He could easily do it when Shane woke up. But Shane had enough to deal with. He had his own vortex of problems. The last thing Noel wanted to do was unload more misery onto his heavily burdened shoulders.

Shane startled awake a little after five, jackknifing up, his hands casting about for something. Noel shut his book and moved to sit on the end of the bed. Shane blinked in the dimness until recognition settled in.

“Hey,” Noel said.

“Hey.” Shane rubbed the heel of his hand into one eye. “Sorry. Not really used to waking up in strange places.”

“It’s fine. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, actually. I think someone exhausted me last night.”

Noel grinned. “A high compliment, believe me.”

“What are you doing up?”

“These are my daytime hours.”

Shane frowned at the alarm clock. “I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to sleep that long.”

“It’s okay. I know our schedules don’t mesh well, but the good news is I don’t have to be anywhere until eleven o’clock tonight.”

“I work at the deli at noon.” Shane’s lazy grin got his dick taking interest. “However shall we spend the next few hours?”

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Care to share with the class?”

“Breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Yes.” Noel kissed him lightly on the mouth, then scrambled out of reach before it deepened into something that wouldn’t stop until they’d both come. “If we’re going spend the next few hours fucking each other senseless, I’m going to need some fuel.”

He kicked off the gym shorts in favor of boxers and a pair of worn jeans. Shane hadn’t moved from the bed by the time he’d shrugged into a sleeveless tee that smelled clean. Noel needed to do a load of laundry pretty badly but he didn’t reek enough for Shane to keep his distance.

“Breakfast?” Noel said.

“I figured you’d want me to wait here while you brought food back.”

Like last time.

It was five in the morning, and he was a well-known nocturnal creature who frequented the diner downstairs. He’d never shown up with another person at this early hour. Time to change that.

“I thought we could eat there,” Noel said. “Unless you don’t want to.”

Shane’s smile was a thing of beauty. “I want to.” He scrambled for his clothes, and Noel openly admired every inch of him while he dressed. Shane had power in those lean limbs, and he’d used that power perfectly last night. Noel planned to carb him up and goad him into a repeat performance.

They didn’t hold hands or giggle like teens, but Noel still felt like everyone could see that they were together. Even though probably no one could. The sun was barely starting to turn the eastern sky from black to blue, and no one was on the street, so his fears were a little silly. An elderly couple was eating at a booth, and Old Joe was wiping down a counter when they walked into Dixie’s Cup.

Dixie Foskey, the whirlwind force of a woman who owned the diner, charged out from the back with a glass dome of pastries in her hands. She flashed them both a dazzling smile as she deposited the dome on the counter.

“Officer Carlson, morning!” She breezed over, her frizzy white hair doing its best to escape the blue bandana she’d tied around it. She tilted her head at Shane. “I know you. You’re Jason McShane’s little brother, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Shane replied.

“I heard about his heart attack, the poor thing, and so damn young. How’s he feeling these days? I hope he’s feeling better.”

“He is. He’s working less and much more energetic. I’ll let him know you asked about him.”

Small town gossip train at its finest.

“Can I start you out with some coffee?” Dixie asked.

“Yes, thanks,” Noel said.

“Orange juice for me, please,” Shane said.

They overtook Noel’s favorite rear booth, Noel facing the door. Neither one of them spoke, and Noel didn’t want this to become awkward, so he grasped for an easy conversation topic that had nothing to do with sex.

“So how long have you worked at Mineo’s?” Noel asked.

Shane seemed startled. “That came out of nowhere.”

“I’m curious. Aren’t these the things that people who are seeing each other ask about?”

“Good point.” After Dixie breezed by to drop off their drinks and menus, he said, “I started there when I was seventeen. I’ve had a few other odd jobs over the years, but Paul’s always been really good to me.”

“Well, I’ve never gotten bad food there.”

“And you never will. They make all their own cured meats. It’s like a genuine New York deli. Except for the pizza. Paul says it’s a family spin on traditional pizza.” Shane’s enthusiasm over the deli was adorable.

Noel liked seeing him get excited about things. “Tristan loves it. Before his last visit, he was rereading his notes from the first and demanded we eat lunch there again.”

Shane’s fingers tapped the rim of his juice glass. “Maybe the three of us can hang out for a while the next time he’s in town.”

“I’d like that. I visit him every Sunday evening. You could come with me if you want.”

“I can’t this Sunday.”

“I didn’t mean this weekend, necessarily. You probably have to work.”

Shane nodded, but he seemed…off. “Yeah.”

“You boys ready to order?” Dixie asked, appearing out of nowhere.

“French toast,” Noel said.

“Um, two eggs, scrambled, and a piece of wheat toast,” Shane said. His seemed more a question than an order.

“Coming up.” Dixie grinned and went off.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person,” Shane added before Noel could ask.

“Old Joe makes the best French toast.”

“The cook?”

“Yeah. Dixie has three different cooks, depending on what day and time.”

Shane snickered. “You really do come here a lot.”

“What can I say? I hate cooking and I don’t exactly have the best kitchen. Washing dishes in the bathroom sink is a pain in the ass.”

“Well, I’m not an expert by any means, but I can throw together a few things. You’ll have to come over some night.”

Noel smiled, warmed by the indirect invitation. “I’d like that. My parents were kind of the old-fashioned type. My sister was taught how to cook, while my brothers and I learned how to fix the car and mow the lawn.”

“They’re useful skills, you know. I can top off fluids and change a tire, but not much else. Jason’s handy like that, though.”

The front bell dinged. A quartet of men in orange construction vests entered, mid-conversation. They overtook a table near the front, a little loud, completely absorbed in themselves. He checked them off as not a threat before he’d even consciously realized he was doing it.

Sometimes threats came out of nowhere.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Shane whispered.

Noel redirected his attention. “With what?”

“Us. Eating here.”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I wasn’t sure. And it’s not as if we’re going to start making out over the table.”

Shane’s eyebrows rose. “Don’t tempt me.”

Noel laughed. “Sorry, keeping track of who’s in a room is probably a cop instinct. Please don’t take it personally.”

“Makes sense.”

“So you can cook, right? What’s your best dish?”

“There’s this easy-baked chicken thing I do, with tomatoes, mushrooms and spinach. And lots of mozzarella.”

“Sounds amazing.”

Shane tapped at his juice glass. “Are you allergic to anything? Food-wise?”

“Not technically allergic, but I have a respectable fear of lima beans. When I was eight, I ate a few raw, which are kind of poisonous, and I was violently sick for about a day. I freaked my parents out big time with that.”

“Ouch. Good, well, I can’t stand lima beans, either. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t ever accidentally poison you.”

“I appreciate that. How about you?”

“Me what?” Shane frowned, then it hit him. “Oh, allergies? Not to food, but I am allergic to cats. I used to pet the strays that wander around the trailer park, until we figured out that’s why I was always sneezing and stuffed up.”

“What about dogs?”

“I’m okay with dogs. You a dog person?”

Noel grinned. “Yeah. We had a Chesapeake retriever growing up. Gorgeous animal, loyal. My parents got another when he died. He’s about six now.” He brought up a photo on his cell phone, then turned it for Shane. “This is Spencer.”

“He’s beautiful.” Shane handed the phone back. “Do you miss having a dog around?”

“Sometimes. I can’t have animals where I rent, but I’d like a dog again one day. I’ve always been fond of corgis. They have amazing personalities.”

“I would have pegged you as more of a big-dog type.”

Noel bit back a joke about size mattering because Dixie delivered their food.

“You boys need anything else, you holler, hear?” she said, then strode off to deal with her noisy construction workers.

Noel slathered his French toast in syrup and a few pats of butter. The scent of cinnamon and fake maple flavor stirred his senses, and the first bite exploded in his mouth. So good. Shane ate with less enthusiasm, each bite something he had to do instead of enjoyed. He really wasn’t much of a breakfast person.

The elderly couple left. A woman in jogging shorts and a T-shirt came in and went straight for the counter. One of the construction guys whistled. Shane glanced over. Noel sat up straighter. The woman said something to Old Joe, who abandoned whatever was sizzling on his flat top to pour coffee into a to-go cup. The men at the table were staring and laughing, and Noel didn’t need to hear the conversation for it to tick him off.

Dixie came out of the back, took one look at the situation, then asked, “Officer Carlson, you want some more coffee?” loud enough for the whole place to hear.

The woman glanced over, right at Noel, and he nodded at her. She smiled. “I’m good, Dixie, thanks,” Noel said.

The quartet quieted down, order restored. The woman paid for her coffee in peace, then left.

“That was pretty cool,” Shane said.

“Dixie doesn’t take bullshit from anyone,” Noel said. “I heard a story about her kicking a guy out mid-meal because he made a remark about her nephew, who’s actually dating the night cook, Barrett.”

Shane flushed bright red. For a moment, Noel thought he was choking, until Shane put his fork down and fidgeted.

“What?” Noel asked.

“Her nephew is Schuyler Rhodes. He was my art teacher in high school.”

“What’s embarrassing about that?”

“You remember I told you about making an exception to strip at an in-town party because it was for two gay guys? Mr. Rhodes was there. Barrett too.”

Noel swallowed back a burble of laughter, because hilarious as the scenario was, it had to have been incredibly uncomfortable for Shane. Probably Mr. Rhodes too, because six years post-high school or not, Shane was undeniably hot in that thong. “That had to have been kind of awkward.”

“You could say that. He even answered the door and was the one who paid me.” Shane thunked his forehead on the tabletop.

Without thinking Noel reached over and ruffled his hair. “It was weeks ago. I’m sure it’ll be forgotten in time.”

“The past doesn’t always go away.”

The statement seemed like it held more weight than the embarrassment of stripping for an old teacher, but Noel didn’t want to bring up painful things. Not over a pleasant breakfast.

Shane straightened up. The blush had gone away, and he looked…sad. Wistful, even, and Noel almost asked. Almost. Instead, he finished his breakfast and coffee, while Shane poked at his half-eaten eggs. Dixie breezed over a while later and asked, “You boys needing anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Shane replied.

“I think we’re good,” Noel said.

She picked up their plates. “One check or two?”

“One.” Noel had made the invite, so he was footing this.

Only Shane snatched the check away when Dixie placed it on the table. “I’ll pay this time,” he said.

Noel didn’t argue when Shane handed over a twenty, even though he knew money was tight for the McShane siblings. Protesting would only make Shane dig in deeper and insist, maybe even piss him off, and Noel didn’t want Shane angry with him. Not over something as simple as a twelve-dollar breakfast check. He did put tip money on the table before Shane could.

They hit the sidewalk. Noel wandered back in the direction of his building’s entrance, Shane trailing him.

“So now that you’re all fueled up?” Shane asked, smooth seduction in his voice. All traces of shame over their previous conversation were gone, and keen interest danced in his eyes. “Any ideas on how to burn it off?”

Noel licked his lower lip, then grinned. He leaned in a bit, keeping his voice low. “I was hoping you’d drag me upstairs and fuck me into the mattress again like you did last night.”

“The exact same way? Or can I improvise?”

“Improvise all you want.” They were alone on the street, but Noel still whispered, “As long as it ends with your dick in me.”

“Fuck yes, it will.”

* * *

And it did. Twice.

After Shane left—with great reluctance on his part—Noel rolled onto his stomach and smiled at the wall. He ached in all the right places, and those physical reminders would have to do until Monday. Even though they could have stolen a few hours tonight in between Shane’s shift ending and Noel’s shift starting, they both wanted more time than that. Saturday and Sunday provided no good window.

So they’d planned on Monday. Shane didn’t work. Noel would text when he woke up, and they’d figure out something to do before—or after—sex. Something more like a real date than breakfast.

Noel could hardly wait. He set his alarm, and then held on to that anticipation as he drifted into a real sleep.

* * *

Shane didn’t expect to see Jason’s truck when he got home that night, and a little wiggle of fear darted around his stomach. It stayed there until he got inside and spotted Jason in the kitchen, dumping popcorn into a bowl. The buttery scent filled the small trailer.

“I thought you had a date tonight.”

Jason took the bowl into the living room and plunked down on the couch. “We had to reschedule.”

He toed off his shoes, then stole a handful of hot popcorn to munch. “How did your checkup go?”

“The ICD is working fine.”

“That’s good news. Cool.”

Shane couldn’t help wondering if Noel was still asleep. He was definitely going to bed early tonight. Fucking Noel was becoming his new favorite thing, even if it made him ache in all kinds of places. Overusing muscles he’d forgotten about while manhandling Noel around the room, and Shane fucking loved it.

“What?” Jason asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at my popcorn like you want to make out with it. Go pop your own bag.”

“Sorry, yeah, okay.” He searched the kitchen cabinets, even though he’d bought the popcorn and should remember where he put the damn stuff.

Jason appeared at the counter, sans bowl. “Okay, what’s going on? Where were you last night that’s got you walking around like you’re high as a kite?” He squinted. “You’re not high, are you?”

“No, I’m not high.” Shit, was he really acting different?

“Then what?”

Noel had agreed to him telling Jason about them. Maybe telling Jason alone would make it less awkward the next time they interacted. “You remember Noel Carlson, right?”

“Sure.”

“We’re seeing each other.”

Jason blinked. “Seeing as in dating?”

“Well, more as in fucking, but we’re trying the dating thing too.” Probably TMI, but whatever.

“Noel’s gay?”

Shane snorted. “No, Jason, he’s doing hands-on research to prove how straight he is.”

“I’m sorry, I just…I don’t know. I’m surprised.”

“That I have a boyfriend?”

Do I have a boyfriend? The label thing never came up. Can I assume that?

Jason’s surprise turned into a grin. “I have never heard you use the b-word before.”

“Shut. Up.” He rustled up the box of popcorn and stared at it, unsure why he was looking for it.

“Hey, he seems like a decent guy, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you. I mean it.” The genuine joy in Jason’s voice made him pay attention. “Looks like we’re both getting that social life we kept talking about.”

“Looks like.”

As long as I don’t fuck this up.