Nirvana Ch. 03

"What?" He said with a surprise, and tried to ignore Carl's hissing, "Who doesn't have a phone these days?"

"I know right." Carl said, "I can't even trust anyone who doesn't have a Facebook."

After an inner conflict while his band mates looked at him as if he were demented, he decided to just walk to the bar. There was a slight chance Noel was still there, and if not, his apartment wasn't that far away after all. He put his jacket on, and started walking -a decision David wasn't in favour of, but he wouldn't dare offer to drive him as he was in no way interested in backing up Owen's teenaged whims.

It wasn't cold enough outside for a jacket. Owen thought about taking it off, but the streets were too busy and he needed the hood. The walk would give him perspective, he had thought, a chance to clear his head and rearrange his priorities. Instead, he found himself cowering inside his jacket, pulling his hood on just enough to obscure his visual field except for the area below his feet, and crossing his arms over his chest. He felt people's eyes on him; people he didn't know and would probably never see again. They knew his secret and sneered at him. He couldn't wait for the walk to be over.

A neon sign that read 'Jersey Devils' flickered in the distance. Own could not see it, but he knew it was there, and felt slightly relieved. The bar was always busy around that time, which meant more judging eyes over his frail body. But -Noel. Noel was possibly there, and it made the bar at that moment feel to him like a shelter.

The bouncer gave him an underage tag to allow him in, and his eyes immediately went behind the bar -it wasn't Noel serving the drinks. That was all it took for him to start thinking clearly again. Chasing after someone he'd only just met the day before suddenly seemed silly and juvenile, and without Noel there, it was a jerk back to reality. It was so easy to just shrug it off, turn around, and go back home.

Something caught the corner of his eyes by the bar as he walked, and it made him turn twice: A snake on someone's arm that twisted up under his sleeve, which was being pulled up delicately by the tips of another person's fingers. It didn't take him long to realise who they both were; Noel had his back to him, and the one facing him had a wool-knitted colourful hat over long locks of tangled hair. He could see them clearly from where he stood, but he wasn't close enough to hear them. They were standing so terribly close, legs intermingled, and, judging by the smile on JJ's face, it seemed as if they were having a pleasant conversation.

Owen felt rooted to the spot, and the music seemed too loud, he could barely hear his own thoughts. There was no logical reason for him to be bothered by any of this, but there he was. The idea of all of this being silly seemed quite distant, as if he hadn't just thought of leaving a few seconds before. He had known of infatuation before, but he'd never seen the ugly face of jealousy until that moment. He wanted JJ to stop touching him, to keep his fingers off his tattoo. He thought about walking up to tell him so himself, but for every reason he had to step forward, there were a hundred reasons to walk back.

It wasn't until JJ locked eyes with him that he realised it was too late to leave. He willed every muscle in his face to stretch a fake smile as JJ waved to him and nudged Noel to turn around.

It was awkward -everything about it. From the moment Noel turned around, and the look on his face was not what Owen had expected; instead of a rabbit caught in headlights, he looked like a normal guy delighted to see a friend in a bar. Or, when JJ trotted towards him vivaciously, greeting him with an unsolicited hug and a flippant rebuke for stealing Noel the other night, it was all so casual. It took Owen two seconds to recognise the smell that fumed off him, that of oak and laundry detergent, the one identical to what he smelt on Noel as they danced.

What was more awkward than anything, what bothered him the most, was that he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly about JJ that made him feel uneasy. He shifted in place, mumbled his phrases, pulled at his hair, and conspicuously avoided eye contact. He could no longer distinguish what was real from what was perception. The questions JJ asked weren't personal neither were they mean-spirited, yet he felt he was put on the spot. He felt like fragile glass that's about to shatter, while Noel's blue eyes cut clean through him like diamonds.

Every flaw he felt he had, seemed to have been amplified, and all of his imperfections highlighted. His fingers roamed over his forehead, the dark circles around his eyes, his stubbly cheek. The attempt to hide them did nothing but further point them out. He stopped at his bottom lip, heart racing as he saw JJ pointing at it, asking why it was bruised.

"Bug bite."

Noel's cough concealing a chuckle broke through the awkward silence, and Owen had a sudden urge to leave.

"Owen works here, you know." Noel grinned proudly, diverting the subject "He's a singer."

"Oh, no. I'm not!" He felt his face getting warmer, as if blushing was what he needed. "I mean, I am. I don't work here full time, we usually go around-"

"Oh my god! What do you sing?" JJ interrupted, excitedly, "Do you, like play your own stuff or do like covers?"

"Well, sometimes we-"

"Are you, like, in a band?" He turned to Noel and continued, "Oh my god, have I told you about that one band in Basel? They're literally mind blowing! They have this orchestra type thing..."

Owen then stopped listening, as his input in the conversation was no longer needed. It didn't seem like an interesting thing to hear either, not after JJ had so rudely interrupted him. He looked around the room for an excuse to leave.

Noel smiled and politely asked JJ to stop talking. "Do you need a chair?"

"Who, me?" Owen tugged at his jacket until he could hear the stitches pop, "Oh, no. I was just leaving, actually."

Noel frowned and glared at him in both anger and disappointment.

"Baby, excuse us a second." He addressed JJ, before dragging Owen by the arm into a quieter corner.

"Can you wait ten minutes?"

"I didn't know you were spending time with your friend, I really shouldn't have come."

"I've been waiting for you, Matthews! I asked to see you tonight, didn't I?"

Owen shrugged.

"Ten minutes, alright? Then we can go."

He looked over at JJ, whose eyes were fixated on the pair the entire time.

Ten minutes. Ten more minutes of seeing JJ and Noel together. He didn't know what kind of relationship they had, but whatever it was, it made him uncomfortable. There was no way he could sit there and watch him consume Noel in another meaningless conversation, or tarnish his skin with his touch. If he had to wait, he'd rather do it somewhere where he couldn't see them. He asked Noel if he could wait outside, and, as he walked out, shot another glance at Dreadlocks who was smiling triumphantly.

The night got colder with a chilly breeze, and Owen was glad he'd brought his jacket. He zipped it up, and stood with his back to the wall, biting dead skin off his fingers.

The voice inside his head was no longer David's, but his own. Everything he'd ever said to his ex-girlfriend before were reverberating loudly to taunt him. Jealousy is a red flag to any relationship, he would say. But it seemed that all he'd stood up for in the past was collapsing before him, and the only prominent sound in his head was the one relentlessly telling him to make Dreadlocks disappear, and he couldn't do anything about it. He bit calluses off his fingers until there was no more to bite, and his teeth were covered in his own blood.

The whole thing felt to him like speed skiing down a bumpy mountain, the end of which was out of sight. Picking up speed as he went out of control, unable to stop, unable to see his surroundings, but dead sure that getting hurt was inevitable. He banged the back of his head against the wall and checked his watch. Noel was already five minutes late.

His eyes started to sting as the breeze brushed over them. He shut them tightly, and rubbed hard until his nerve endings shot sparks like fireworks. A familiar aroma sneaked its way into his nostrils, and he smiled in a conditioned reflex. The smell of oaks was then followed by the sound of footsteps, Owen sighed with relief.

Noel stood before him, face flushed, lips full and crimson, parting gorgeously in a smile, and strands of his unkempt hair clumped together with sweat. Weak light shining from a lonely lamp across the road, and the neon sign over their heads, both reflected off his skin as he moved, and a backpack drooped lackadaisically over his shoulder. He was more energetic and loud than anyone should be at half past eleven at night. Owen thought he'd never seen anyone as beautiful.

"Really sorry I'm late!"

Owen didn't register the words, as he couldn't take his eyes off him. As soon as he saw him, all he could think about was how badly he needed to sink into him, hold on to his body for clarity, to be reassured this was not a big mistake, that he wasn't stepping into a minefield. His lips started aching and tingling, coveting the warmth of his kiss. Unfortunately, he didn't have the courage to say a word, let alone act on his emotions. It was tormenting how close he was yet he wasn't brave enough to appease himself with his touch, not even grab his hand firmly enough to feel safe again.

"You'd think Jay doesn't stop talking? Try and get him to stop dancing." Noel was temporarily deafened by the after effect of the beats roaring inside the bar, and unaware of how loud he was. Owen smiled and motioned with his arm that it was OK. They both started walking in the general direction towards Noel's place as an instinctive reflex.

"Sorry I couldn't leave earlier. He just came back from Switzerland, and was excited to tell me all about it."

That prick! Owen thought, as jealousy then mixed with envy started gnawing at him, making him feel inadequate. He had a vivid memory of them standing so closely, and wondered if before he'd walked in, or after he'd gone, they shared a kiss. Perhaps that was when the oak smell rubbed off on him. After all, there was nothing stopping them, not like they weren't behaving as lovers in the first place. He cringed visibly and felt nauseated, praying for enough courage to claim Noel's lips there and then. But, just like his prayers for JJ to get ripped apart, they fell on the deaf ears of every deity.

It wasn't lost on Noel that Owen was swallowed whole by distress. However, he chalked it up to a rough day at practice, hoping it had nothing to do with coming to terms with his identity, and trying to squeeze himself into a judgmental, merciless society. He fancied that Owen had missed him as much as he had, and wasn't keen on leaving things for wishful thinking.

Unlike Owen, he was not afraid of physical or verbal contact, although he tried the best he could to avoid touching him in public, knowing how uncomfortable it made him feel before.

"You alright?" he asked in the most laid back manner.

"Oh, yeah yeah!" Owen responded automatically.

"Sure? You looked really flustered in there. I hope Jay didn't overwhelm you with his questions or anything."

He was joking, but Owen didn't pick up on that. Instead, his stomach turned at the mention of his name, and he was ready to let it all out; tell him how much he despised the bastard with his stupid dreadlocks and cheap frayed hat.

"Not at all," he dreaded the words coming out of his mouth, "I'm just not very good... around people."

It wasn't a lie, but wasn't the truth either.

There was a moment of silence while they were still on topic; his final chance to say something before that abominable name was dead for the day and not spoken again, and he just watched it go by. Tongue-tied at the most inconvenient of times as he'd always been, he waited until Noel moved on, asking how his day went, and he just gave him idle responses.

He talked about practice, about Carl's distractibility, and how it often felt less like rehearsal and more like babysitting. Noel laughed at the subtle jokes he made, unaware that internally he was screaming. What he really wanted to talk about was JJ. He was dying to know what they meant to each other, why they touched so intimately, why they had the same smell, and most of all why he called him "baby". Surprisingly, he managed to keep a calm surface over his boiling core.

The walk dragged longer than the whole day, as they were both becoming impatient to touch one another. They walked closely with synchronized steps, close enough to sense each other's ardour. The short sleeve of Noel's top was lifted up by his backpack strap, and more of the ink dwelling in the deep layers of his skin was visible -his skin, still contaminated by JJ's fingers. Owen looked ahead as he talked, occasionally catching a glimpse of Noel's lips thinning in a smile. All he'd wished to do was say the right combination of words to make Noel's smile wider.

Their feet hurried over the stairs creating a surge of irregular tapping and puffing. It was then that David's voice came back to Owen's head, particularly the part about Noel never having gone home with the same guy twice, and it made him giddy. On one hand, he'd proved him wrong. On the other, he was the first. The tingling in his lips was becoming so intolerable that he started biting them, reawakening the twinge that had subsided.

He looked around the corridors while Noel bent over to get his key from under the doormat. The key scratched its way in, and he felt bony fingers curling around his own, bringing his hand to the front of Noel's jeans. A shock shot through his body, and the bulge in his own jeans mirrored the one he felt in his hand.

"I've missed you." Noel exhaled. Owen's eyes widened in astonishment, knowing that the one who'd possessed him, mind and soul, all day had the least bit of a mutual feeling.

"Me too." He understated. The door clicked open, and, to Noel's amusement, Owen jumped at the sound.

What he saw behind the door was the sweetest episode of déjà vu he'd ever experienced. Everything looked exactly the same as he left it that morning; the dream catcher, nightstand, pots of plants, perfectly made bed, and neat kitchen. It was as if he'd never left.

The smell of jasmine, mint, and wet earth were the first thing to welcome him in, followed by the obliterating, exhilarating, unbearable desire to touch Noel.

As soon as the backpack thumped on the floor, and the door latched back into place, Owen lunged quickly and forcefully at his partner, wasting no time, and with fiery angst he took his lips in more ways than one but fewer ways than he wanted; he wished that if he kissed him hard enough, long enough, good enough, he would make him his. Noel was not surprised, as he knew it was only a matter of whoever got there first, so he reciprocated eagerly, meeting his lips, tongue, and teeth, trying to take over. Owen was not letting him. He placed one hand on his jaw, and with the other, he encircled the snake that twisted on his arm, and squeezed, pushing him against the wall.

There was no sound but the clicking of teeth, body slamming against a brick wall, and the infrequent gasp when they broke apart to steal a breath. A vague taste of brandy hung around in Noel's mouth that Owen couldn't help but notice. However, it was not what gave him a high. It was the assertive grip around his neck, drawing him in by his necklace, pulling his hair, and squeezing his hips.

As he slowly felt himself giving in, losing control under Noel's touch, he remembered the pompous man with dreadlocks. Fury and lust drove him to the point of seeing red. He lift Noel's shirt up in a haste, followed by his own, then gave him a hard shove that possibly bruised his shoulderblades, and pressed his body against him making sure their erections were pushed against each other, separated by many layers of clothing, while his lips devoured him and hands glided helplessly over skin, muscles, and bone.

Noel was not happy with the roles switched, he could take him in a heartbeat if he so wished. All the years Owen spent at the gym were dwarfed by years of cycling, hiking, mountain climbing, and despite not being physically as strong, Noel had the stamina and more importantly the attitude to overpower him. He could easily turn him around and restrain him. However, Owen was being so sexy he wouldn't dare stop him, and he enjoyed seeing him getting more and more comfortable with his sexuality.

Owen took his lips hungrily, and placed his hand on his chest. Back when he'd dated women, he'd never been a fan of breasts, and felt that he only liked them because he had to. It wasn't until his hands were placed on the firm masculinity of Noel's toned pecs, flexing underneath slightly tanned, slightly hairy skin, that he realised what he'd been missing. His fingers groped and squeezed, and brushed against his nipples. He instinctively pinched one nipple, thinking it wouldn't be sensitive, but the reaction it elicited from Noel, the squirming and loud gasp, made him push his hips forward and pinch him harder.

The sounds coming out of Noel were satisfying, although not nearly enough. He wanted more -louder, clearer. He took his nipple between his teeth while he braced him against the wall, knowing that if the opportunity presented itself, Noel will dominate him easily, and he wasn't ready for that to happen. He pushed away a hand reaching for his neck, and draped his body over Noel's to keep him in place.

Fuelled by infuriation, he moved from one hardened nipple to the other, alternating between biting, kissing, licking, and occasionally rubbing their erections together; anything to get a whimper out of Noel -to let him know he could be the better lover, and shut down his insecurities that jumped to the surface.

It all felt like a challenge; a competition in which his opponent wasn't present, never existed, or probably had already won. His head buzzed with anger, and he found himself dropping to his knees to be level with the tent in Noel's jeans, and before he could chicken out, he undid his button, zip, and pushed his jeans and boxers down.

It wasn't until he was faced with Noel's fully erect cock that he realised what was happening. It didn't matter how many times he'd seen it in adult films, or even fantasised about it. Seeing it in the flesh was a different story. He wrapped an inexperienced, trembling hand around the base, and looked up at Noel with flickering eyes for guidance.

Noel almost melted. Owen's purity was more evident to him than ever before; he never looked his age until then, and Noel felt a slight hint of guilt, corrupting such an innocent young thing. But, behind all the fear and uncertainty, he could see Owen craving him just as much as he did. The way he shifted uncomfortably to adjust his cock or give it a satisfying rub against his jeans; his eyes burning with lust, and his pouty, full lips lingering just inches away, close enough for him to feel his hot breath on his member. If his lips weren't made for this, he didn't know what else they were made for, and all he wanted was to see them encircling the whole thickness of his cock like they were supposed to.

"Owen, you don't have to do this." As much as every inch of his body ached for it, and every cell screamed at him; as agonising as it was, he had to give him a choice.

Owen's weak grip didn't change. It was more than winning a competition to him then, after hearing and seeing what he was capable of doing to Noel, he would be insane to stop.

"I want to." He said, suddenly putting himself on the spot, and worrying about the aftermath. Competitiveness was never one of his good traits, especially with too much at stake, and with this being the first time he'd done anything of the sort. Perhaps the wrong spin of the wrist or unsynchronised rhythm would turn Noel off for good and make him yearn for another.