“It’s wrong. Tell me it’s fucking wrong, Noah. That I shouldn’t feel this way. It’s not right.”
He heard Noah come toward him. Knew his friend stood across from him, probably leaning against the back of the couch, but Cooper still couldn’t make himself look at him.
“You think I’m wrong, Coop? The way I live my life? Is that what you’re saying? That I shouldn’t feel or be attracted to men?”
Cooper heard it. The pain, disappointment, and anger in Noah’s voice.
“No.” He finally managed to look at him. He was such a pussy, sitting on the floor like this, but couldn’t make himself move. “If that’s who you are, then there’s nothing wrong with it.” But it was different for Coop. Wrong for Coop. He wasn’t gay. He loved women. He’d had a lot of them. He’d been raised to believe it should be one man and one woman.
“So why does it make it wrong for you to—”
“Wonder what your hands would feel like on me like that?” He hated himself for admitting it, but needed to say it too. Needed the words out because they were the only truth he understood right now. “Wonder what it would be like to touch you? To feel you?”
Noah cursed and for the first time, Cooper couldn’t read him. Had no idea what his friend was thinking. Probably because he didn’t know what he was thinking either.
“What’s wrong with me?” Cooper hated the weakness in his voice; the need to even ask such a question. He knew who he was and what he wanted. He’d never been the type to try and bend to fit someone else, but this? Wanting another man? This was different.
“There’s nothing wrong with you.” Noah’s voice was hard—not angry, but firm, telling Coop he believed what he was saying.
And then he took a step forward. And, another one.
Cooper’s heart stopped. It was like a fist tightened around his chest keeping him from breathing.
Noah hadn’t shaved and he noticed the stubble in his jaw. Why the fuck was he noticing that shit?
Cooper couldn’t move as Noah kept walking toward him. Didn’t know if he wanted to. He should, because he wasn’t gay and shouldn’t crave Noah to keep getting closer, but he did.
Noah stopped in front of him. Looked down at Coop while Coop looked up at his friend. His eyes said so much, but nothing at the same time. All Cooper knew, was they were intense beams pointed right at him.
Noah kneeled in front of Cooper.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, panicked. Forget that Noah hadn’t even done anything yet.
“I don’t know,” Noah replied, the same confusion in his voice that Cooper felt. Noah reached out and touched Coop’s hand that rested on his knee. He looked down to see it was red, swollen from punching the wall.
But that’s not what he paid attention to. He watched Noah’s fingers trace his muscles. Watched as a hand that matched his in size, fucking caressed him.
He wanted to punch Noah.
Wanted to run.
Wanted to ask for more.
The touch shot up his arm as Noah explored. It wasn’t like they’d never touched each other before, but this was different. This was…intimate, which in a lot of ways, Cooper felt was a stupid word for what they were doing, but it was all he could come up with.
Noah’s fingers traced his, as though he was drawing them. Then slowly…slowing trailed up his arm.
Push him the fuck away!
Cooper knew he shouldn’t but he watched—fascinated—and just felt.
Noah’s fingers brushed his hairs as they ran up his forearm. His bicep. Cooper shivered. Couldn’t take his eyes away.
Noah reversed his path, heading down again. Cooper risked a glance at him to see awe in Noah’s eyes as he watched what he was doing to Cooper. Which made no sense. This was normal for him. It was what he did, but that’s the only way Cooper could explain it.
When he got to Cooper’s wrist, he circled it with his fingers. They touched. A woman would never be able to wrap one hand fully around his wrist like that.
And he liked it—the way they matched in so many ways. The masculinity of another man’s hand on him. He fucking did, and he tried to blame all sorts of things: having his friend back in his life after all these years, drinking tonight. None of it was true though, and he knew it.
Noah lifted Cooper’s hand toward him. Coop’s dick ached, and the fist around his chest tightened. His brain screamed at him to use his fist to punch Noah in the face, but he didn’t. He watched, savoring the large hand touching him. The way his body over-heated, trying to burn any conflicting thoughts.
Watched as Noah bent toward his hand. Watched as Noah pressed his lips to Cooper’s swollen knuckles. Watched as Noah’s eyes squeezed tight, his mouth still pressed to Cooper’s hand, the action somehow traveling up his arm, until he felt it everywhere.