Nirvana Ch. 06

"You've been avoiding me."

"Was I not clear enough the other day?"

"Noel, listen," he squeezed his hand for emphasis, "listen, please, I was being stupid and I'm really sorry."

"Was I," Noel interrupted, with a harsh tone, "or was I not clear enough?"

"Yes, but..."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to work." He snatched his hand away, causing the glass to almost tip over, and returned to his customers as if nothing had happened. Owen felt deeply injustice. He deserved a second chance, or at least deserved to be heard out for five minutes. There was no reason Noel would treat him like a stranger based on what he thought was a negligible misunderstanding.

"Did he give you the boot?" The far too familiar sound of Jay came from beside him, and he turned his head dramatically with a disgusted look on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"Yikes! I've seen it happen like a million times." His voice rose a whole octave at the end, to Owen's irritation, and he could only hum in reply. "Hella sad though."

"Uh-huh."

"At least it means I can have him back like guilt free."

"Knock yourself out."

Furious, dejected, and aggravated, he dragged himself to the music room and stayed there until Carl and David showed up. His performance that night was cold and heedless, and he had his eyes fixated on the bar the entire time. Noel would finish handing out drinks, and return to Jay with full attention. He was all over him, talking and laughing and touching, and yet wouldn't deign to acknowledge Owen's existence for more than one minute.

He started feeling he shouldn't be apologetic. He would admit that he could have handled the situation with much more elegance, of course, but at the end of the day, he was not mistaken. Telling someone he liked him was not a sin; he had nothing to repent for.

If only that Jay could take his hands off him for one second.

He kept his composure throughout the night, going over plans of how to punch Jay in the face without there being much audience. He could hurry to Noel's, when their gig was over, and wait for them to get there because he knew for sure they would end up going home together. There, he could give him a swift upper-cut and leave. Not like his relationship with Noel could get any worse.

He was possessed by the foul idea that Jay was playing up to it; that he knew exactly how it made him feel, and was making it quite clear that he'd won. Owen strummed the final chord and straight away swung his guitar off his shoulders and hurried through the crowd towards the bar with blinding, deafening white noise in his head. He had no specific plans. Maybe he could smash a bottle over Jay's head, maybe strangle him with one of his dreadlocks; whatever tickled his fancy.

Before he could reach them; before he could do anything absurdly stupid, or stupidly absurd, he was restrained from behind by David's arms. A hand clamped over his mouth, while one arm held both of his own in place, and he was dragged mercilessly through the back door.

"What the fuck was that?" David screamed. He hurled him at the floor causing his ribs to meet the curb. Still, Owen, with some anger still slithering inside him, tried to get up and run back in, but was pushed to the floor again. "Have you lost your damn mind?"

"Dave," Noel said from behind him, and held his hands up when David frowned at him, "you'd better get back in there. Carl needs a hand."

He took a final look at Owen, curling in pain and panting on the gravel, and left.

"So, someone's been a brat."

"Leave me alone." He said though grit teeth.

"I'll have to. Really swamped today." He offered him a hand, but Owen only glared at him with his hands cradling his chest. Noel shrugged, "OK, I'll leave you for the night to cool off and reflect on your actions. Tomorrow morning I'll drop by your house. What do you say, 8 o'clock?"

"I said leave me alone."

"8 o'clock it is."

****

Their feet crushed fallen leaves on a small wooden bridge leading to Norvin Green forest. Everything was perfect; the sun was shining, cool breeze blowing, and Noel was there. His voice, pelted by the trickling, gushing sounds of cascades and chirping of birds, and he talked about nothing at all, and despite all this, Owen was feeling aggravated. As they walked between trees and climbed rocks, Noel made a few attempts to hold his hand. There weren't that many people around to see them, but Owen didn't want to hold his hand all the same, and he wondered, as they explored further in, why he agreed to go in the first place. Up until the moment he showed up at his door, Owen had decided he wouldn't go.

"I also talked to Jacob about what happened at the bar. You guys are still on, he says, but don't cause any more trouble."

"Brilliant." His lack of enthusiasm was palpable.

"If you're not gonna talk to me, at least hold my hand."

Owen was thinking of a pithy remark when he lost his balance. His foot was trapped under a tree branch, or a boulder, he wasn't sure, and there was a thud as his body hit the floor. The first thing that hurt was his chest, it hit a rock placed conveniently to receive his injured ribs. Then, there was his knee and elbow, skinned, jeans torn, and covered in blood.

"Get up and walk it off."

"Shit, I'm bleeding. Ripped my fucking jeans, too."

"It's only skin and fabric. Walk it off."

"It's contaminated. What if I get tetanus or something?"

Noel couldn't help a chuckle, "You won't get tetanus." He grabbed a bottle of water from his backpack, crouched beside him, and poured water over his wounds. "There you go," he put the lid back on, "All sorted. Now, will you let me hold your hand? It's going to get bumpier."

"No," he shouted, and Noel stood right back up, "I don't think I will. I don't think I want to! I don't even think I want to be here. You just come treading in and out of my life, pressing my buttons like a fucking vending machine, and I let you. Every time, I let you."

"If you don't want to be here, feel free to turn around and go home."

Owen threw his hands up and dropped them on the floor, "You see, that's exactly what I mean! There's always, always this implication that in a blink of an eye it will all be gone, and you? I don't know anything about you. I don't even know your last name. And, really, unless I can see you with my own eyes, I don't know if you exist."

"But I do exist! I have a surname. I have two parents and a baby brother. Well, he was when I last saw him; he's probably your age now. I have friends and family. I eat and breathe and dream. I don't know what else you need to know."

"You don't get it, Noel."

"Maybe I don't, but I have a favourite spot in the whole state of New Jersey, and I wanna take you there right now." He held out his hand, "before it gets dark."

Owen contemplated for a minute, then shook his head, "I can't go if I don't know where we are."

"Look, I know I cut you off for a bit, and I'm sorry, but we're here. We're in the moment. Why does anything else matter?"

But it mattered to Owen. It mattered, when they walked together, holding hands, and Noel talked about harmony and spirits and trees, and about how everything was connected, because all he could hear was that he meant as much to him as anyone else who had joined him in the past.

They reached a high way, and Noel dropped his backpack and exhaled. "Isn't this wonderful? You can see everything from up here."

It was wonderful. The trees and ocean didn't look much different from any of Noel's drawings. Noel walked up behind him and pointed towards the ocean, "If you look closely, you can see the skyline." He wrapped his arms around him, and pressed him to his chest. Owen made an objecting sound in his throat that immediately died, and then he relaxed against him, resting his head on Noel's shoulder. "Have you ever been?" He murmured.

"I haven't." Noel rested his head on top of Owen's, and held him tighter. "I've missed this." He buried his nose in his hair and inhaled deeply the sweat on his scalp masking the smell of his shampoo, along with his fear and doubts, his worries and bemusement, and underneath all this, underneath the rigid guard of his dignity, he recognised a faint smell that was pure carnal.

Owen shut his eyes tightly, and gripped Noel's forearms. He cursed the rules and regulations by which he was soon to be deprived of such privilege. He would do anything for the ability to stop time and live that moment forever. Just he and Noel entwined, and nothing but air and space stretched out at 360 degrees. How so much like nature Noel was, he wondered. Be it the smell of lavender and oaks, not so different from the smell of Earth, or the aqua blue of his eyes that imbued the ocean. He couldn't quite tell where nature ended and Noel began. How serene and wondrous he was, and how turbulent and disastrous he could be. Owen was once again hit by a twinge of reality and burdens of uncertainty.

"Be mine." He whispered, and in response he got a tight squeeze that hurt his ribs. The fabric of their clothes rustled lightly together as he turned in his arms to face him.

"Be mine."

"I heard you," he inhaled, eyebrows furrowing, "I can't. You know I can't do this. I can't promise you forever."

"I don't want forever," he took his face in both hands, "I want this. This moment, right here and right now. I want you to be mine and mine alone, just for a moment. Don't promise me forever, but please, promise me right now."

Noel held him tighter, and planted a rapid, messy kiss on his lips, "I promise you today."

Owen's eyes widened, "Today?"

"You're mine today."

"Today?" He stammered, "as in until midnight today? I mean half the day has gone past so it's unfair."

"Don't get greedy now, Matthews." He took his lips gently, lightly, like the breeze teasing fragile leaves and carrying them along its way to nowhere and everywhere. Owen's legs trembled from exhaustion and amazement, and he clung on to Noel's body for support, running his fingers through his long curly locks that danced in the wind, and feeling over and under his shirt with cold hands, absorbing his warmth. It felt different, having him. No doubts, no questions; he belonged to him for the first time. That body he held in his arms was his lover, his partner, his boyfriend -his, his, his.

They sat at the edge of the hill, looking towards the skyline. All Owen wanted to do was taste the inside of Noel's mouth, but instead he was looking at dying trees and endless waves and stupid birds, and he hated them all. Ten minutes later, he was dropping off.

"I'm so tired." He drawled.

"Um."

"I haven't slept a wink."

Noel patted his own thigh invitingly, and Owen stretched his body beside him and laid his head on Noel's half-lotused legs.

"I really love autumn," Noel said, "People look at fallen leaves and think it's sad, but I think it's beautiful that the leaves are finally free to go wherever they want."

"The leaves are dead." He slurred, almost incomprehensibly, and then drifted off to sleep. Noel curled his palms within one another, touched the tips of his fingers together, and drifted off to his own peaceful repose.

The cold wind howled as the lowermost point of the sun touched the horizon, and Noel took pity on his companion, cowering in foetal position to preserve his body heat. He woke him up with a feathery stroke on his cheek, "time to go, Rock Star." Owen, in his sleepy haze, held on to him and kissed his cheek until he was awake enough to walk.

As soon as they reached Noel's flat, and he slumped down on his bed, a pounding headache came over him. It was a familiar one he was cursed with due to lack of sleep, a change of seasons, physical exhaustion, or all combined.

"Orange juice?" Noel suggested, "Lemonade?"

"Glass of water and a couple aspirins." Owen pressed the heels of both hands to his eyebrows.

"I don't have any. You have a headache?"

"No, just trying to get a hole in my stomach."

Noel smirked, "Don't push your luck." He turned him to the side, stood behind him, and kneaded the muscles of his shoulders, "this should take care of it." He pressed and glided over the back of his neck, massaging his scalp up to his forehead, giving that extra attention with both thumbs on his temples. The back of Owen's head was level with the front of Noel's trousers, and he could feel a throbbing swelling, synchronised with the fading throbbing in his head.

Whether Noel's method was working or Owen was simply too distracted to feel any pain, he wasn't sure. He brushed his head lightly against Noel's hardness, and Noel paused for two or so seconds. Owen swore he could hear his heavy breathing. He pressed his head again, this time with more deliberation, up and down his length, and Noel pushed against him.

The massage became a bit redundant, with the headache gone and there being other matters that needed taking care of. Whatever overflow of blood that caused the headache had rushed down south when the sexual tension rose from one to one thousand. He grabbed Noel's arm and pulled him down to feast on his delicious lips.

"Better now?"

Owen replied with a positive hum. He wasn't ready to let go of him. If he had him for one night, he wasn't willing to waste a second.

"Alright, take off your jeans." Noel said.

"Smooth!"

"Head out the gutter, Matthews. You need a clean pair, that's all."

"Not for the night." He proceeded to brazenly unbutton and lower his jeans, and handed them to Noel who took them to a wash basket.

"My god, you're eager. It's a surprise we haven't done it yet."

"You're right, why haven't we?"

Noel shrugged, "Beats me. Whole lot of restraint from my part, I'll tell you that."

"No restraints tonight." He blurted, and sat him on the bed with gusto, "let's do it."

Noel ran his hand through his hair the way he did when shocked, or angry, or in this case, elated. He mumbled what Owen could decipher as 'god dammit', or something similar. "Do you know what you're asking?"

"Yes!" He spoke earnestly, looking straight into his eyes without hesitation, "Do you want me to sign something official? Because I will!"

Noel chuckled, and held him, "No, that won't be necessary." He captured his lips softly, feeling a bit of a tremor despite his certainty.

"I want you to be my first. I really do. I've wanted this since..." His speech was abruptly interrupted and he winced. Noel, in the midst of his voracious caressing, got a bit excited and encountered a tender spot. "What? What's wrong?"

"It's Dave," Owen took off his shirt revealing discolouration over the side of his ribs, "he dropped me like a sack of potatoes."

"Oh, baby." He touched him again, more carefully, as if it was going to undo what he'd done, "that doesn't look good."

"It's nothing, it's fine. Ignore it."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Really, it doesn't hurt."

"That's not what I meant." His hand dropped to Owen's thigh, creeping inwards and upwards, giving him an unprecedented chill.

"Oh."

"Does that scare you?"

He was preoccupied with Noel's hand, following it with jittery eyes as it headed towards his rapidly enlarging erection. "No," he cleared his throat, "I'm a bit nervous though."

"Nervous is good, it's the best part." He rested his forehead on Owen's, and it made the latter's hair appear darker and his skin paler in contrast. "Not to brag but I know what I'm doing, so you don't have to worry about a thing."

Owen's smile and lustre in his eyes were of timid excitement. He didn't remember ever feeling that way the first time he'd been with a girl. Of course, he wasn't immune to teenage antsy inexperienced humping, but it was never to that extent. He was laid bare, his nerve endings exposed, and Noel managed to stimulate every one of them. His hand slipped under his boxers until his fingertips grazed the dainty skin of his member. Although multiple jolts shot through his frail body, he had to maintain his composure.

"I know virginity means a lot to many people," his lecherous fondling was unrelenting, "some like to wait for, I don't know, something special."

"This is special."

"I just want to know," He hooked bony fingers around his aching hardness and gave him an up stroke, "that you're absolutely sure you want this."

"How can I possibly," he inhaled in a gasp, "how can I say no when you're doing what you're doing?" Noel tried to let go but was held in place. "I'm sure I want this."

Noel nodded and then seemed in deep thought. He kept perfectly still, except for his fist moving up and down in Owen's boxers. It was probably Owen's imagination, but it looked as if his partner was perhaps anxious. He, himself, was a bundle of nerves, treading lightly in a new territory, step by step, like a cartoon character walking on air, only falling if they look down. He tried to keep hold of the situation because if things moved too fast, he would panic and pull out.

"So, how do we do this?"

Noel smiled warmly, "Don't worry, I'll do everything. I'll talk you through it, and I want you to communicate what feels good. I want you to trust me."

He did, but no matter, his heart rate was going through the roof. He needed to step back into his comfort zone, just for a bit, before they went any further.

Swiftly, he had Noel on his back, crouched between his legs, and pulled his shirt up. A sigh of surprise was uttered that faded into heavy breathing when Owen kissed his skin, all the way down to nibble on the firm muscles of his abdomen; his tongue dancing over the protruding letters of ink while he fumbled with his jeans and boxers.

"You're insatiable." Noel said through sighing. He expected Owen to tease and torment him as an act of habit, but Owen couldn't bring himself to waste any more time. As soon as he unsheathed the swollen head, he took it in his mouth and applied pressure, devouring the sweet and salty taste that he'd missed so much and had thought he wouldn't have again.

He took pride in his ability to make Noel grunt. It was brief, and sneakily camouflaged into throat clearing but the boy knew he got him, no matter how well he hid it. He swallowed him down in one delectable, agonising stroke until he felt him at the back of his throat, then he just as slowly came back up, ending with a couple of flicks over his slit to catch the juiced of pre-excitement. He was rewarded with another grunt and a pat on his head urging him to take it again.

Noel bent one knee, placing his foot on the bed for leverage so he could better embed himself inside him. Owen took him hungrily, emboldened by the sporadic groans and whimpers that broke out of his mouth accidentally, the ever so slight twitches of his hips as Noel held himself back from shoving into his mouth, and, most importantly of all, the prospect of having him, owning him that night, which seemed to fuel his lewd enthusiasm as his fear of rejection disappeared.

Owen ran his hands with sluggish admiration along Noel's concaved abdomen that sunk down with every hollowing of his cheeks, so much that the lower end of his ribs was prominent. He felt around his chest for the pointy, taunt nubs, and gave them both a mild tug while his tongue twirled around the large purple head. Noel couldn't hold back his loud groans any longer. His hands on Owen's hair, petting and pulling with each fervent up and down imbibing that gave him tingles up his spine and all over his body.

"Oh god, you're so good at this." Owen was on fire. He sped up his sucking and fondling, and pinched harder on his nipples until Noel yanked his head up and off him to calm himself. He pulled them both to standing position, and stole Owen's frayed lips into his own. "Still wanna do this?"