Runaway Pt. 02

From there, I licked back up the underside of his cock. When I reached the tip again, I took it into my mouth.

Noah definitely liked that.

He tried to suppress the groan he made, but the throaty sound was accompanied by his hand flitting towards my head. His fingers brushed against my hair, lingered there, but moved after a moment.

I bobbed my head on his tip a few times, stroking the rest of him at the same pace. It was another new, strange sensation, and I didn't feel like I was doing it quite right. Holding just the tip of his cock in my mouth felt like it wasn't enough. All it was really doing was making my mouth water, and I wasn't sure if Noah really wanted a bunch of saliva on him.

It really felt like I should put more of him in my mouth, so I stopped stroking him with my hand and carefully pushed my head down until his tip was pressing against the back of my throat.

As terrible as my instincts seemed to be about other things in my life, that one was correct. Noah groaned loudly, almost surprisingly so, and that time he couldn't keep his hands off my head. I glanced up at him, eyes wide to ask the questions I couldn't with his cock in my mouth.

"Yes," he panted. "Yeah, that's... you got it." He stroked my hair gently, then lightly gripped it. "Now just..."

He didn't say the rest of it, just started guiding my head up and down on his cock.

Once I got the rhythm down, Noah's hands just rested on my head, fingers twisting through my hair. I couldn't help the wet sounds that escaped from my mouth as I moved and a couple of times, I pushed his cock just a little too far down my throat and choked, but he didn't seem to mind. Actually, he seemed to quite like the sounds I made when I gagged on him, but I didn't think I could do that too often without making myself sick.

I wasn't sure how long it would take for him to finish, but when his breathing became heavier and the soft groans more frequent, I thought he was probably pretty close. Sure enough, a few moments later, he lightly pulled at my hair, his voice frantic and demanding.

"Lacey, you gotta move now if you don't want me to come down your throat."

I glanced up at him, catching his eye as he looked down at me, and kept bobbing my head.

"Oh, fuck," he grunted. His eyes squeezed shut as his fingers tightened in my hair, and suddenly his cock was pulsing and my mouth was filling with a hot liquid. He tasted salty, a little bitter, but again, not unpleasant. I didn't know how much there would be and panicked for a moment, not sure what I would do if it didn't all fit in my mouth, but he sighed and tilted his head back, relaxing heavily against the headboard as his cock stopped twitching.

Fairly certain that was it, I moved my lips off of his cock. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with the mouthful of cum I now had, but remembering what he said about coming down my throat, I figured I was supposed to swallow it. Immediately after I did, Noah sat back up.

"Do you want something to spit into?" he asked.

I froze. "Um... am I supposed to?"

He smiled, eyes tired but warm, and pulled me towards him.

"Doesn't matter. You can swallow if you want, or spit it out. Some girls do. You do what you're comfortable with."

He kissed me lightly, his hand tenderly brushing through my hair as he flattened the spots he'd gripped.

I knew I shouldn't need validation from him, but when he pulled back, I couldn't stop myself from asking for it.

"Was it okay?"

"Yes, Miss Lacey." He helped me back under the covers, cuddling up tightly to me after turning off the light.

My eyes were heavy, body satisfied but tired, and I felt myself fading quickly towards sleep. I was nearly there when I felt Noah's lips press against my forehead.

"You're pretty special, you know."

Before I could respond with anything more than a smile, I fell asleep.

**

"What are you thinking about?"

My fingers were absentmindedly tracing along a feather tattooed on Noah's chest, just above his left pec.

"Statues."

He chuckled. "Statues? Where'd that come from?"

I had woken up in Noah's arms. He was still naked, his body pressed against mine as his arms encircled me protectively, his face buried in my hair. There hadn't been a time in my life where I had felt so at peace, so content, and so unwilling to leave the comfort of another person.

There also hadn't been a time in my life where I'd needed to pee so badly, and there had been no way of extracting myself from Noah's grip without waking him.

I had slipped my tank top back on while I was in the bathroom, and when I returned, Noah had put his pants back on but was still lying shirtless on the bed. He was lying on his back, rubbing his eyes, but extended an arm to me. I hurried back into the bed and lay next to him, resting against his chest as we both shook off the last traces of sleep.

It felt different than the night before. Had Noah wanted to kiss and touch me, I would have certainly been fine with it, but the sense of urgency and eroticism wasn't there. Instead, it felt quiet, tranquil in its coziness, familiar, but brand new.

My mind wandered as we lay there, just enjoying the peace. When he asked me what was on my mind, I answered without thinking.

"Yeah, statues. You're going to think I'm a total dork if I tell you."

"Tell me anyway."

"Have you ever heard of Saint Teresa of Avila?"

"Wait, you're thinking about religious statues?"

"I told you, it's kind of dorky."

He chuckled. "I can't say I've heard of her."

"She became a saint because she had spiritual visions and she wrote about them. Then there was this artist, Bernini, and he made a statue showing one of her visions."

"What was her vision?"

"I don't remember the exact wording, but it was about getting stabbed by an angel a bunch of times and being in so much pain she was crying out, but that the pain was from God's love and it was so strong that it felt good."

"That's a little fucked up."

"I know. When we talked about it in class, my professor said the stabbing was symbolic of having your sins torn from you and the pain was from the love of God taking their place. But when he showed us the picture of the statue that Bernini made, she looks like she's really enjoying the pain, you know? And he said that's what's called religious ecstasy, and there's a ton of other paintings and statues depicting all sorts of other saints going through this experience."

"And this is on your mind because..."

"I'm thinking now that maybe they were all just having orgasms, but since sex was a sin, they said it was a spiritual vision to cover it up."

Noah's laughter shook him so strongly that I was jostled beside him.

"What? The similarities are all there! Moaning, painful but in a good way, repeatedly being impaled, overwhelming loss of control..."

He was wiping tears from his eyes when he finally calmed down.

"Jesus, Lacey. You're something else."

He brought me to him for a kiss that lingered just a little too long, leaving me just a little too light-headed. When we parted, he cleared his throat.

"Should probably grab breakfast. Gonna be in Toronto in a few hours."

**

The lady at the train station in Edmonton had said buying our tickets to Montreal would be cheaper in Toronto, and she was right. However, if we had just bought the tickets when we were in Edmonton, we wouldn't have had to wait until two days later to get the train.

"It's busy on the long weekend," explained the man behind the ticket counter. "Sold out, reduced trips. Best bet is to get the midday train on Monday."

"Maybe we should just rent a car," I said to Noah. "It seems stupid to wait two days to take a five-hour trip."

"You ever drive in Toronto, Lacey?"

"I've never been here before."

He shook his head. "You've never seen traffic like here. I'm not willing to drive it. You shouldn't either. It'll take us at least six or seven hours to get from here to Montreal. That's only if traffic's good. Could be a full day of travel."

"Really?"

"Barely gonna lose any time if we just stay here a couple days. We'll be there by Monday night on the train, Sunday night if we drive. I got a place we can stay."

While Noah made some calls to figure out where we were going, I called Sean.

"I was starting to panic," he said.

"Sorry. We got delayed in Alberta but we're in Toronto now."

"When should I pick you up?"

"Well, not until Monday night. The train is sold out for the next couple days."

Sean made a noise of frustration. "Damn. I was all excited to see you today."

A twang of guilt pinched my stomach. "I'm sorry. I was, too."

"Not your fault." He hesitated, as if unsure how to proceed. "You talk to Mom at all since you've left?"

"No. I stopped answering my phone."

"She's worried, you know."

Another pinch of guilt, stronger that time. "I'm scared to call. I don't want to talk to Daddy."

"I know. But I wanted you to know that Mom's worried. So am I. What about if I get you a plane ticket, eh? You could be here tonight."

It was tempting. An hour on a plane and I'd finally be in Montreal with my brother.

An hour on a plane, and that would be the end of my time with Noah.

I bit my lip as I looked at Noah a few feet away, talking on his phone as I talked on mine. I very much doubted that the offer of a plane ticket would be extended to Noah, too.

"It's okay," I said. "W-We already bought our tickets for Monday and have a place to stay."

"We, as in, you and that friend of yours no one seems to have heard of?"

"He's got a name."

"Yeah, Noah, right?"

I didn't like the tone of Sean's voice and matched it with my own icy response.

"Yes, that's correct."

"Mom said none of your friends have ever heard of him."

"You told Mom?!"

"Wha—of course I told Mom! She's been... Christ, Lacey, do you even know how worried everyone has been? You disappeared, for all intents and purposes. Mom was ready to file a missing person report. She freaked the fuck out when I said you were with someone named Noah that she'd never heard of, convinced he was some serial killer who was going to—"

"—leave me dead in a ditch somewhere?"

"Uh, yeah."

"He's helped me, Sean. You'll understand when you meet him," I said quietly, hoping my voice wouldn't carry over to where Noah was standing.

"Promise me right now that he hasn't hurt you or manipulated you or done anything bad to you."

"I promise."

"Are you fucking him?"

"Sean!"

My face flushed instantly red, my breath catching in my throat as I gasped. Instinctively, my hand fluttered to my throat, looking for the missing cross around my neck.

Sean started laughing.

"Jesus Christ, Lace. A couple people in Vancouver might not have heard that, you wanna try again?"

"What the hell, Sean?"

"Hey, I'm not gonna judge you. You're an adult." He was still laughing. "I was just teasing, I'm sorry. Look, if you are, whatever. Just be safe, okay? This whole thing seems really sketchy."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you. I'm not... I don't even..."

"Clearly," he interrupted. "I don't think I've ever heard someone blush through the phone before. You're still the good one, Lacey."

He didn't say it unkindly, but the words still struck a nerve.

I was tired of being the good one.

"You sure you don't want us to buy you a ticket?" Sean asked.

"It's okay. I'll call you Monday when we're about to get in."

"All right. Love you, sis."

Hearing my brother say he loved me for the first time in years nearly made me cry, but I held it together.

"You too."

Noah was done with his call when I walked back up to him. My face must have still been pink.

"You okay?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to say anything.

"All right. Okay, so I've got us a place to stay for the night. I've got some friends who live pretty close."

"Are they, um..."

"Not like Sam and Pauline, no," Noah said hurriedly. "Promise. They're good people. Might be a little more urban than you're used to, but it'll be safe for the night."

We took a bus to Noah's friends' place. Much like our trip through the mountains, my eyes were glued to the window nearly the entire ride.

I had never seen a city like Toronto. Buildings towered over us, as large and grand as the mountains had been, and there were people everywhere. My experience with cities was limited to Winnipeg, mainly, and the small part of Edmonton I'd seen around the train station. Neither of those places were anywhere near as crowded, as bright, and as intimidating as Toronto was. Everything gleamed in the summer sun, shiny and modern and nothing like I'd ever seen before.

The people we passed looked so unlike people I had ever seen before. They hurried back and forth in clothing that seemed foreign to me, all angles and sharp cuts. To me, they seemed like clones, cookie-cutter people who walked at the same speed with the same looks on their faces. At one intersection, I saw a man with a sign preaching about the end of days. He tossed his arms passionately, preaching to crowds of people waiting to cross the street. Not a single person looked at him or even seemed to notice he was there.

That man made me shiver. The way he spoke, the passion in his eyes paired with the anger and the judgement of his sign, made me think of my father. In another world, a world far north of a city that was dwarfed in comparison to this one, I would have been sitting in a church attentively, listening to words like that spewing at me.

He looked at the bus just before we started moving again. I swore his eyes met mine, that he could sense all the things I had done and would do and that he condemned me for it, without ever speaking a word.

Then, as soon as he had been in my window, he was gone, replaced by a street full of stores with full display windows showing everything from clothing to lingerie to computers.

Even once the bus left downtown, I was overwhelmed. The city sprawled in every direction, buildings and houses laid out with the same vastness that I imagined the ocean must have. The closer we got to Noah's friends' place, the less shiny things began to seem. The height of the buildings sank and the people on the street became less identical.

Past that, buildings began to appear more rundown. The gleaming buildings of Toronto's downtown were replaced with brick and stone that lent a dusted hue to the world. The smooth ride grew staggered as we drove onto roads that were less maintained, cracked and bumpy and bordered by boulevards of brown grass and cigarette butts.

Noah seemed to grow more uncomfortable as we moved further away from downtown. When we finally got off on a street lined with older, rusted vehicles parked in front of tired-looking houses, he stopped me.

"I know this isn't the kind of place you're used to," he said.

"What do you mean?"

He didn't meet my eyes, looking uncomfortably down the road. I followed his gaze, noting the wire fences surrounding small yards with patches of dirt, crumbling driveways and sidewalks, and scraggly trees.

"Don't have to humour me. I grew up in places like this. You probably drove through them with your parents telling you to lock the car door and not look out the window."

I had no response. He wasn't wrong, exactly, but it hadn't crossed my mind that I should be worried.

"I'm sorry," he continued. "If I could've found somewhere a little less, you know... a little nicer, I would've."

Noah had pride. It wasn't the kind of pride people mean when they talk about the seven deadly sins, not the kind of vanity or hubris that makes people insufferable. No, the pride that Noah had was born of his humbleness, as contradictory as that would seem. He didn't want to accept kindness from people that he felt he couldn't repay. He didn't want to rely on others or be seen as dependent on anyone but himself.

He didn't want me to think less of him for what he could provide.

"Do you think I'm shallow?" I asked. It came out harsher than I intended and I winced. "Wait, not like... that came out wrong."

Noah tried to smile, but it was the tight, reserved kind of smile that I had been seeing less of. "Don't think you're shallow, just... you're used to a different standard. Don't want you to feel like you won't be safe here."

"I know I'll be safe. You're here."

He nodded solemnly, then led me down the street.

**

Six people lived in a house with three bedrooms and a studio-type space in the very small basement.

Jenny and Tom owned the house. When we entered, Tom embraced Noah heartily.

"Brother, it's been too long!"

"Thanks, man. You saved our asses." Noah returned the hug.

"Who's this, then?"

"Lacey, my friend Tom. Helped me get a construction job a few years ago."

Tom shook my hand. "Lots more of those jobs for you if you settle down here, Noah."

"We'll see." He smiled tightly, though not coldly.

"Lacey, beautiful girl, this is my partner and my love, Jenny."

A petite woman with a long braid that settled at the small of her back grinned at me and gave me the warmest, most earnest hug I had ever received.

"Welcome, Lacey. So nice to meet you." She grinned at Noah, nearly dancing in excitement as she released me from her hug. "Noah!" she stage-whispered. "You take care of this one."

I blushed and Tom's booming laugh filled the small living room at the front of the house.

Tanya and Shannon shared a room. They briefly said hello, but Tanya was leaving to work an evening shift at a hotel downtown and Shannon was going to get groceries. They shared a kiss quickly before stepping past us and disappearing into the street.

"We did a little juggling," said Tom as he led us to the other bedroom. "This is Duncan's, usually, but he said he'd crash downstairs on Robbie's couch. Robbie had a friend staying over but it's probably about time for her to go home for a night or two. Although they might just chuck a pair of earplugs at Duncan, who knows."

I felt guilty, of course. "I'm sorry we're putting him out."

"Don't be! Duncan's not paying rent this month, he'll sleep where we tell him. Don't worry, Jenny washed up the sheets this morning so you got a clean bed, at least."

"Thanks, Tom," Noah said. "I owe you."

"Never, brother. You've saved my ass before. You know you always got a place to stay here. It's nothing. You two get settled, grab a shower, whatever. Jenny's about to get dinner going and Shannon's picking up some beer. Duncan and Robbie and what's-her-name might pop by, we'll see."

We thanked him profusely before going into Duncan's bedroom. It was a small room, filled mostly by the bed and a small desk that had an old TV sitting on it, but it was clean and smelled reasonably fresh.

"Looks like we're sharing again," I said casually.

Noah shook his head. "Nothing will be happening here, Lacey."

I busied myself digging through my backpack, hoping he didn't see the embarrassment written across my face. Of course, because it was Noah and because he seemed to know every minute thing about me, he crossed the room immediately and took my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to his.

"We need to talk about this, and we will. We get a good meal, a good night's sleep tonight in a room that's not moving across train tracks, and we talk tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He pressed his lips lightly to mine, but it was still enough to make me breathless.

"Tomorrow."

**

I showered first, but when I was done, Noah wasn't in the room. Shyly, I wandered to the kitchen, where Jenny was cooking something that smelled spicy and comforting.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked.

"Sure is!" Jenny handed me a bottle of wine. "Have a glass and keep me company. Shouldn't be too long now, but Tom's outside smoking with Duncan and they dragged Noah and Shannon along, so it's the perfect time for me to interrogate you."