Stepping inside, he winced as his shoes clicked loudly against the hardwood floor of the hallway. Shutting the door behind him, Noe toed off his shoes and nudged them off to the side with sock-covered toes. The hallway was dimly lit by the front porch light, shining through the windows that lined the door, offset only by the bright seam of light that came from under the living room door.
Padding down the hallway, Noe smiled faintly, warmed by the thought of Eric or Chrissy waiting up for him. Humming quietly under his breath the tune from rehearsal, Noe’s smile widened as he heard voices filtering under the door because it meant both Eric and Chrissy. Finding the doorknob, Noe opened the door and stepped onto the soft plush carpet of the living room.
“Oh.” Noe hesitated, the word slipping past his lips before he could stop it. Eric was sitting on the couch, as he’d expected, but on his lap was a young man that Noe didn’t recognize. He was thin, nearly too thin, with bleached blonde curls that tumbled to his shoulders.
He had a wicked smirk and piercingly bright green eyes, Noe noted absently as he twisted provocatively on Eric’s lap to turn and face the doorway. Noe steeled himself, shutting the door with a carefully measured movement. Eric sighed, looking troubled as he watched the young man so this was probably a new patient.
“Clive –”
“My name is Cien.” The blonde corrected sharply, his gaze snapping away from Noe and back to Eric. Noe relaxed a little, waiting for a cue from Eric.
“Get off my lap, Clive.” Eric frowned, watching Clive with a faint air of worry. Noe wondered if he was worried about Clive or what Chrissy might say if she knew where Clive had been sitting – twisting about.
“Fine.” Clive fairly sulked the word, sliding off Eric’s lap slowly, the rustle of fabric against fabric the only noise as Noe watched and Eric frowned. It was an odd noise, Noe decided, because Clive wasn’t wearing a lot of fabric. His shorts were indecently short, which was probably the point, and his shirt was barely bits of string strung together to form a mesh across Clive’s chest and arms.
Clive paused, cocking a hip out as he stared speculatively with his bright green eyes. Noe waited, unsure of what to do. He wanted to turn and slip up to his room, but that would convince Eric that he wasn’t really making any progress. Noe held his ground, watching carefully. Disappointing or no, if Clive made any sudden moves, Noe was shielding.
“And who’re you?” Clive demanded after a moment, the impatient words falling from full, pursed lips as he tapped the toes of his thick boot against the carpet soundlessly. Noe mustered his courage and stepped forward, out of the shadows of the alcove that held the door.
“Noe.” Noe offered a smile – his smile, which was barely more than the twitching of his lips up because he never could make himself do more than that.
“No? No what?” Clive smirked at him, purposely dropping the second syllable. Eric stood slowly behind Clive, still looking more thoughtful than Noe was accustomed to.
“No-eh. Clark.” Noe stressed the second syllable, tacking on his last name to emphasize that yes, that was his name. His smile slipped away and his fingers curled themselves around the edges of his sleeves, gripping the soft fabric tightly.
“You’re to be polite, Clive.” Eric warned, finally focusing on Noe and smiling warmly. His stern features softened, and Noe wondered if he’d really been waiting up or if he’d been trying to deal with Clive. “How was work, Noe?”
“It was… alright.” Noe decided, forcing his smile back into place. Dipping his curled fingers into the pockets of his jeans, Noe waited. Eric would shoo him off to bed soon enough. “It went long.”
“You’ll be paid over?” Eric asked, settling a hand on Clive’s shoulder. Clive scowled, looking petulant and no less pretty for the scowl.
“Yes.” Noe confirmed. Eric would get the check’s stub, so he could confirm it. Noe let his lips slide shut, hoping Eric would notice that he was tired.
“It might be an early morning tomorrow.” Eric said, his fingers tightening on Clive’s shoulder as Clive started to say something. “You should get some rest.”
“Alright.” Noe accepted gratefully. Tipping his head towards them, Noe offered a tired smile. “Goodnight then.”
“Goodnight, Noe.” Eric smiled encouragingly, his pale eyes warm as Noe turned away. It shouldn’t – it didn’t really matter that he wasn’t waiting up exclusively for Noe. Noe turned towards the door, carefully measuring his movements because Eric was still watching.
As soon as he had the door shut, Noe paused for a second to make sure Chrissy hadn’t woken before making his way as quickly as he dared to his bedroom. Shutting the heavy oak door behind him, Noe snapped the deadbolt into place and fought the urge to throw up a shield. That would be far too noticeable and Noe was playing at reacting normally.
Clive was decidedly not happy. The bedroom was wholesome. That was the only word for it, though homey was another good one. It was large at least, with lots of wide spaces between the furniture. The bed was a double, or a queen. He couldn’t tell the difference between them and it didn’t look like a king.
The sheets were soft linen, there were four pillows with matching cream and blue pillowcases, and the comforter offset the colors with a soft blue. The blanket crumpled, half folded at the foot of the bed was a darker blue that matched the pillows. Of course, the curtains matched too, long dark blue drapes lined with cream. Clive made a face at them, deliberately leaving the bed unmade as he got up.
They’d bought him clothing, too. Wholesome clothing. More likely Nelson had supplied clothing for him, which would explain why everything was big, baggy and covering. Eric had convinced him to send the clothing he’d been wearing down the laundry chute in the bathroom, so he had nothing comfortable to wear.
Scowling at the closet that lined the wall by the door, Clive crossed over to it again. Perhaps he’d missed something in the dark last night. He doubted it though, Nelson was always thorough when he was trying to reshape Clive’s image.
Sliding the paneled door open, Clive stared at the baggy shirts and too-big slacks. Khakis too. Not a pair of shorts or any of his comfortable shirts among them. Sliding the door shut again, Clive turned on his heel, the skin digging into soft, plushy carpet. Scowling, he surveyed the room critically.
The bed was across from him, set between the two curtained windows that spanned the wall from floor to ceiling, and the door to the hallway was off to his right, past the closet. A desk, neatly organized and with a single pad of paper and a cup of pencils sat against the wall, just out of the way of the door. A matching chair was pushed in, looking stiff and uncomfortable. To his right was a mostly empty bookcase and a dresser. The bookcase had a few books (a thesaurus, a dictionary and two decks of playing cards), and the dresser had a comb and hairbrush sitting on top of it.
Unlikely, but he’d try it, Clive decided, padding barefoot across the carpet. Stretching his arms up and out, Clive yawned, wondering if they’d feed him. Or maybe he should try to fake them out by pretending to be anorexic. But then they’d probably smother him even more, and it might be funny the first few times he ate when they weren’t around, but dealing with their panic wouldn’t be as funny after that.
Tugging open the first drawer, Clive scowled. He didn’t wear underwear. Shutting the drawer again, he tugged open the one directly below it. Jeans. Flipping the back of the top pair up, Clive peered at the tag. He didn’t mind jeans. They could be artfully ‘fixed,’ unless they were two sizes larger than he was.
Slamming the drawer shut, Clive squatted down and pulled open the third drawer. Plain white t-shirts filled the left half, and stupid novelty t-shirts of varying dull colors filled the right. All folded neatly and tucked carefully in to conserve space. Clive eyed the tag of the one on top. And again, a size too big.
Shutting the drawer, he pulled open the last, slightly amazed by the sheer number of socks. Black and white, which was dull, but socks were functional. Pulling out a pair, he examined it closely before sitting down completely. The carpet felt kind of odd against his bare butt, but Clive ignored it because his bare butt had been on worse.
Tugging on the socks, Clive carefully folded the tops down so that he had an inch and a half of folded over sock above each ankle. Scrambling to his feet, Clive grinned cheerfully. He was hungry, and he since he only had socks to wear, that’s all he’d be wearing.
Noe watched as Chrissy efficiently chopped strips of onion into smaller, cube-like portions. Her blade moved quickly, the bright silver flashing with the lights set into the ceiling above the kitchen island. Noe’s hands were warm, wrapped around a coffee mug filled with slightly sweetened coffee.
He’d offered to help, but like usual Chrissy had just smiled and told him to help himself to the coffeemaker. Noe smiled a bit, sipping his coffee carefully. It was still fresh and hot, and he didn’t want to burn his tongue. Chrissy would ask him to set the table soon enough, as was the routine.
He wanted to ask about Clive. Instead, he sat quietly and watched Chrissy chop vegetables for omelets. Saturday mornings were late brunch, which Chrissy made and served while Eric tried to steal bits and pieces. Eric hadn’t been in the kitchen when Noe had come downstairs, and he wanted to ask about that too. It would wait though.
“Noe, do me a favor and snag the flour from the cupboard there?” Chrissy directed with a smile and Noe obediently slid off his stool. Setting down his coffee mug with care, so as to not slosh the liquid inside, he crossed the cool kitchen tile to the indicated cupboard and fished out the plastic container of flour.
“How’d you sleep, hon?” Chrissy asked as she accepted the flour from Noe’s hands. She tilted her head just a little, curious and concerned as her pale blue eyes watched him unwaveringly. Noe shrugged, letting Chrissy brush a few strands of hair out of his eyes.
“The new one didn’t bug you too much, did he?” Chrissy tried, her fraying braid letting another lock of hair loose to fall away to frame her face.
“No more than the others did.” Noe offered, not quite truthful but truthful enough that Chrissy wouldn’t be able to spot the lie. “I’ll get used to him.”
“Alright.” Chrissy accepted, setting the flour on the island’s countertop and pulling him into a brief hug. Noe returned it stiffly, feeling his cheeks heat. “If you have problems, let Eric or me know.”
Noe nodded, drawing away as soon as she let him. Using the palm of his hand, he rubbed at his cheek because he knew it was red and Chrissy could probably see it too. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with anything?”
“I’m sure.” Chrissy laughed, smiling widely. She hadn’t found anything wrong with it then. “If you want to set the table?”
“Okay.” Noe agreed, turning around and heading back to the cabinets lining the wall behind him. Four places, because Chrissy hadn’t said anything about needing fewer. Hopefully he wouldn’t be the one who had to go fetch Clive. He didn’t like the feeling Clive had. It was unnerving.
Collecting plates and silverware, Noe padded across the kitchen floor to the dining room. The double doors were always propped open, and the curtains on the windows had already been pulled open. Setting up the small dining table, Noe set the plates down on a corner as he sorted forks and knives free of each other and then onto napkins in front of chairs.
Clive was just like any other patient they’d had, so he’d be gone in a month or so, Noe told himself sternly, setting plates down carefully. Wandering around the table with the last one in hand, he hesitated, staring past Chrissy at the stairs leading to the second floor.
They’d never had a patient come downstairs naked. Well, there were socks, but naked otherwise. The plate slipped from Noe’s fingers and crashed to the floor. Noe froze, the shards of broken ceramic shooting across the floor in a dozen different directions.
“Noe?” Chrissy looked up, her back to Clive, and Noe clenched his fingers. Stupid, stupid, why hadn’t he had a better grip?
“Sorry.” Noe murmured, collecting the fragments quickly. He could piece it back together, probably. Then Chrissy couldn’t get mad. She wouldn’t get mad though. Noe relaxed a little, risking a glance at Chrissy.
“Have you got them all?” Chrissy asked, peering at the floor. She didn’t look the least bit angry, just concerned as she peered about the dining room. Clive was lounging against the doorframe, smirking, and Noe determinedly didn’t look at him.
“I have them.” Noe concentrated, shifting the bundle of glass shards forward an inch or so. “Where?”
“Ah, here.” Chrissy darted across the room, opening up the can of the trash bin. Pausing with the lid in hand, she frowned at Clive. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“My clothes are in the laundry.” Clive told her with a grin, and Noe lifted the shards and floated them slowly across the room. Letting them down into the bin gently, he watched as Chrissy set the lid down distractedly.
“All of them?” Chrissy’s voice was slightly incredulous. “You just got here last night, Clive. I know you have more than one outfit. Go get dressed, please.”
“I’m not wearing anything Nelson gave you.” Clive told her with aplomb, sauntering into the kitchen and peering at the pile of chopped vegetables resting on the counter. Noe breathed, because Chrissy was distracted and he should get another plate out before she turned around. Floating one out of the cupboard, Noe used a bit of speed to get it to the table, ignoring that Clive’s eyes tracked the movement.
“What’s wrong with it?” Chrissy frowned, and waved her hand in front of her face. “Stop that.”
“What?” Clive’s eyes snapped back to Chrissy’s face. “He picked it out.”
“Nelson did.” Chrissy nodded. “Alright. But your clothes are in the wash. Would you like to borrow some of Noe’s? You look to be a bit smaller than him, but it’ll do until we can take you shopping after brunch.”
Clive’s scowl slipped into surprise. “What?”
“Well, you can’t very well just wear one outfit.” Chrissy reasoned, smiling at him as she turned back to the counter. “Is that alright? I could lend you a bathrobe if you’d prefer that until your clothes are dry.”
“It’s fine.” Clive decided, slanting a smirk at Noe. “Shall we?”
Noe glanced at Chrissy, already nodding because she’d already approved it. Taking a deep breath to settle himself, Noe walked back into the kitchen with precisely measured steps. Clive was skinny, Noe noted. The faint outlines of his ribs were visible beneath his skin, and there didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat on him.
“Don’t worry about the plate, Noe.” Chrissy rested a firm hand on his shoulder for a moment as he walked around the island.
“I – okay.” Noe agreed because he couldn’t lie now, it would be too obvious to Chrissy. Clive was watching still, and Noe hated it. He couldn’t stand being watched. “It’s… upstairs.”
“No shit.” Clive drawled, and Chrissy reached out and whacked his arm with a spoon.
“Watch your language.” Chrissy warned, taking the bowl with the pancake batter over to the stove. Clive huffed, and Noe wasn’t sure if he was amused or annoyed. Turning away, Noe headed for the stairs. His room was just to the left of the stairway upstairs, so he shouldn’t be too long in Clive’s company alone. Taking the stairs slowly, Noe worked at uncurling his fingers. The tense muscles didn’t want to move, comforted by wrapping around his sleeves, but Chrissy or Eric would notice if he left lasting imprints in his palms again.
“So how long have you been dumped off here?” Clive’s voice floated up from behind him, and Noe’s eyes flared slightly wide. He’d almost forgotten Clive was there. Shrugging – it had been about a year, but he wasn’t telling Clive that – he wrapped his fingers around the banister instead, sliding his hand up the smooth wood as he climbed.
“Too long to remember?” Clive asked demandingly, trying to instigate something. Noe sighed quietly, reaching the landing at the top of the stairs. Turning back to Clive, he shrugged again.
“A while.”
“Whatever.” Clive scoffed, scowling at him. Crossing skinny bare arms across his skinny bare chest, he sneered. “I bet you just have some dumb-fuck family that didn’t want you anymore and just dumped you off here, too.”
Noe stared at him for a long moment. It wasn’t… like that. Clive didn’t know what he was talking about. “My… room.” Noe began, turning again. “This way.”
Clive snorted, but followed him, his sock feet scuffing against the carpet loudly. Noe breathed steadily because Clive would catch anything less and he didn’t want him to think he was right.
Clicking open the locks as he approached, Noe grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. He didn’t hesitate either, just opened the door. Best to get the torture over with. Clive slipped with a smirk, like he knew perfectly well how rare it was to get a chance to get into Noe’s room.
“Of course, your room is nice.” Clive scowled, staring around. It was one of the smaller bedrooms in the house, but it was Noe’s and that was what was important. Flipping his bangs out of his eyes, Noe crossed over to the dresser and tugged out a drawer. Clive followed him over, standing too close and peering into the drawer with him.
“I don’t wear underwear.” Clive told him, and he was probably smirking again. Noe flushed, shutting the drawer and edging away a little. He itched to shield so badly – between the plate and Clive’s closeness – but Chrissy or Eric would notice and he didn’t need that right now.
“Jeans.” Noe told Clive, opening another drawer and deciding he’d make sure to not wear whatever Clive picked out again.
Clive picked the topmost pair and wandered away, over towards Noe’s desk. Noe frowned, ready to protect any of his things if he needed too. Clive snagged the scissors and Noe twitched them out of his hand.
“Just – wear it.” Noe frowned, catching the scissors neatly. He might not plan to ever wear them again, but that didn’t mean he wanted Clive defacing his clothing.
“Fine.” Clive sulked, tugging on the pants slowly. Noe set the scissors on top of the dresser next to a music book.
“Is this okay?” Noe asked, tugging out a random shirt. It was dark grey with a v-neck and a black line etched across the chest.
“Fine, I suppose.” Clive padded across the floor, Noe’s jeans hanging off his hips very nearly indecently. He hadn’t snapped them properly, either, and Noe wondered how likely it was that Chrissy would let him back out of breakfast. He could honestly say he wasn’t hungry, but then that wasn’t normal and he was trying to prove he’d gotten better.
“Here.” Noe held the shirt out, but Clive wasn’t paying him any mind. He was staring at Noe speculatively, and Noe’s stomach turned nervously. Perhaps this was his punishment for not being careful with the plate.
Clive stepped closer, his sock-covered toes a few inches from Noe’s bare feet, and Noe waited apprehensively, relaxing a little despite himself. Clive smiled slowly, and the happier expression transformed his face into something a little less sharp and a little more pretty. Clive shifted his weight from one leg to the other, waiting for something, and Noe just blinked at him, wondering when Clive was going to take the shirt from him.
“Noe…” Clive whispered softly, and Noe’s stomach turned again because there was something entirely wrong here. His heart was beating too fast and there was that feeling of ‘not right’ again as Clive leaned closer. Noe wanted to back away, to snap up a shield, but he was helpless against whatever Clive was doing, and then Clive was kissing him, warm, full lips pressed cautiously to Noe’s.
Noe’s breath hitched as he leaned forward – why was he leaning forward? – and Clive smiled against his lips and leaned closer, pressing more firmly and sliding his warm, wet tongue along Noe’s lips. Noe let him deepen the kiss, his eyes shutting on his panic because this was nice but wrong and he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t just pushed Clive away yet.
Clive’s hands rested against Noe’s shirt, smoothing down the front slowly, and Noe’s nerveless fingers let the shirt he was holding fall to the floor. Clive broke off kissing him, smiling victoriously as he took Noe’s hands and tugged them to his hips, right where the jeans were about to slide off of him.
Clive grinned, and leaned close again, kissing him more determinedly. Noe’s thumbs stroked against the soft skin of Clive’s hips and he wanted to tear away but something was holding him entranced, tasting Clive’s soft lips and feeling Clive’s soft skin. Clive’s hands slipped under his shirt, his palms smoothing flat up Noe’s stomach for a few inches before reversing direction and heading for his jeans.
Noe jerked back as Clive’s deft fingers found the top of his jeans, and breathing hard, he pushed, sending Clive flying across the room. Wide-eyed, he gasped out frantic breaths, trying to not break because he was normal, and he wouldn’t react like he was an emotional cripple. Clive was pressed against the far wall, looking a little shocked and a lot angry, and Noe let him go, dashing from the room as fast as he could.
Clive stared after Noe, more than a little shocked and slightly sore. His back hurt, but it was secondary. He’d never had anyone run from him before. Of course, he’d never had anyone throw him across the room before either. Standing up slowly, Clive winced – he probably had bruises. Those weren’t anything new at least, even if he usually got them in a much more pleasant manner.
Picking himself up from the floor, Clive hitched up his borrowed jeans and started trudging across the room to where Noe had dropped the shirt. It should fit, Noe wasn’t that much bigger than him. Scooping it up, he tugged it over his head with a soft swear. Noe’s throw hadn’t knocked the breath out of him, but his back was more than a little sore now.
So maybe he’d miscalculated, but Noe had been acting awfully smug and condescending. He’d probably been here a while and was jealous that Clive might be taking affection from Eric or Chrissy from him. He’d wanted Noe to realize that he wasn’t all-powerful and special.
No one had ever managed to stop once Clive had gotten them started. Noe had taken more effort than most, yes, but he shouldn’t have been able to pull away. Clive pouted a little – it looked like he wouldn’t be able to get sex here either. Eric could block things effortlessly, and Noe seemed to have some of the same ability. And Chrissy was a girl, so that was not happening.
Padding out of Noe’s room, Clive wondered where Noe had run off too. The hallway was deserted, and the doors lining it were all shut so that gave him no clue. Probably he’d run downstairs – Clive paused as Chrissy whirled out of the enclosed stairway, scowling. She stalked right up to him and smacked him across the face.
Clive flinched back, his cheek stinging. Chrissy snagged his wrist, muttering rapidly under her breath something that sounded neither flattering nor impressed. Clive sighed, letting her drag him down the stairs.
“Are you a moron?” Chrissy demanded finally, her blue eyes furious as she pulled him down the stairs. “Or do you just want to hurt as many people as you can?”
“What?” Clive scowled, tugging at his arm. More bruises then. Nelson probably knew how abusive this place was and had been pleased by it.
Chrissy stopped midway down the stairs, turning to face him with a frown tugging her lips down. She looked a lot less jovial that way, and Clive almost wished she’d go back to smiling and being friendly, no matter how much of a lie it had to be.
“We do not stand for such things in this house, Clive.” Chrissy snapped, letting go of his wrist. Clive tucked the arm close to his chest, feeling the fresh bruises start to throb in time. “You never, ever use your power on another person, not without explicit permission, and most certainly not in your case.”
Clive shifted uncomfortably, frowning. “What does it matter?”
“You’re here to train, Clive.” Chrissy told him seriously. “You’re here to settle your power so you don’t do what you just did to Noe. You’re lucky your power is nearly compatible with his, or you could’ve torn him apart.”
“What?” Clive blurted out, surprised. “What does that mean?”
Chrissy sighed, twisting her hands together. “You have a succubae power. It’s alluring, enchanting power, and it doesn’t mesh well with most other supernatural powers. Noe has telekinesis, which is similar in that he controls objects where you control people. He has fewer defenses against your power than a normal psychic would, but he had enough that it threw him entirely for a loop.”
“So… I can’t use it on powers?” Clive interpreted, curious. He’d never tried, really. The only power he knew was Nelson, and there was no way he wanted to use his power on his uncle.
“Right.” Chrissy confirmed. “It’s a direct attack to do so, and most people will respond hostilely. Noe didn’t because you’re slightly compatible.”
Clive massaged his wrist a bit, wincing as the tender flesh throbbed at him. “Okay.”
“Come on.” Chrissy frowned at him, hairs from her frayed braid standing out around her head like a halo. Turning around, she snagged the railing and started back down the stairs. Clive followed, even more curious as to Noe’s reaction. If he was nearly compatible, then had the last bit of non-compatibility made Noe run off like that?
The kitchen was empty, a stack of still-steaming pancakes set next to the stove but otherwise unchanged from Clive’s previous trip down here. Chrissy crossed over to the stove and snapped the front burner off, the pan that had been on it resting on one of the burners in the back. Turning back around, she paused, her eyes dropping to where Clive was cradling his wrist.
“Oh, damn.” Chrissy swore, crossing back over with a hurried stride. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
“It’s just a bruise.” Clive shrugged, letting Chrissy take his arm and examine the skin.
“Still, I’m sorry.” Chrissy apologized, and Clive fought the urge to fidget because it was really odd having his keeper apologize to him.
“Whatever.” Clive tugged his arm free, crossing them quickly. Chrissy frowned a little, looking stressed. Faint worry lines were settling into place around her eyes and Clive wondered how old she was. She didn’t look that old.
“Into the living room with you.” Chrissy ordered gently, and Clive wondered when she’d lost her anger. It didn’t really matter though, and he walked ahead of her into the front hall, pausing slightly to hitch up his pants. Noe’s pants. Crossing the hallway with short slides of sock against polished hardwood, Clive paused at the door to the living room, waiting a second for Chrissy to catch up.
It didn’t seem like Chrissy was going to punish him. Opening the door as Chrissy caught up, Clive wondered at that. It was odd, because ‘training’ in his mind was equated with ‘punishment when you did wrong.’ And he’d obviously done wrong, but she seemed content to have explained things to him. Stepping into the living room, his feet sank into the plush carpet a bit, and his eyes caught Noe’s immediately.
Noe stared unblinkingly at him – not at him, actually, but at a spot slightly to the left of him, wide-eyed and unmoving. Eric didn’t look at all pleased, frowning at him and he wondered how much luck he had left to press with him. Chrissy gave him a gentle shove, her hand pressing against fresh bruises without warning. Hissing a bit, Clive flinched away.
“Clive?” Chrissy questioned, and Clive frowned at her distrustfully.
“What?”
“Are you okay?” Chrissy asked quietly, shutting the living room door behind her. Noe didn’t move, and that was really unnerving.
“I’m fine.” Clive replied absently, watching Noe. Noe didn’t move, still, and Clive peered intently at him to make sure he was still breathing. He was, barely, his chest moving the slimmest of margins up before falling back. Noe was sitting on the couch, his feet pulled up and his arms wrapped around his knees.
Stepping a bit to the left, Clive stepped directly into Noe’s line of sight. How much of this was because of him? Noe blinked once but didn’t seem to focus on him.
“Is he okay?” Clive asked, hating the uncertainty in his voice but unable to make it go away.
“No.” Eric replied, his voice hard. Clive scowled at him because it wasn’t his fault. No one had ever told him you weren’t supposed to use your power against another power.
“Eric.” Chrissy scolded, and Eric met her eyes. “He didn’t know.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.” Chrissy confirmed, crossing the living room to where Noe was sitting. She stopped a few feet away, her hand going out to tentatively touch the air. The air rippled away from where she touched, shock waves spreading out from her hand along a sphere that wrapped around Noe’s curled up form. “Noe.”
“He won’t listen, Chris.” Eric sounded less angry too, and Clive filed that away. Apparently ignorance made for a good excuse. “I think we’ll have to wait for him again.”
“Again?” Clive pounced on it, taking a few steps closer. “This has happened before?”
“Noe –” Chrissy paused. “Yes. Noe isn’t the most… settled person.”
“He’s right there.” Clive pointed out. “Unless he can’t hear you?”
“He can’t.” Eric confirmed, tucking a strand of his too-long hair out of his face. “He’s in a trance.”
“A trance.” Clive repeated, peering curiously at Noe. “Why?”
“You startled him.” Chrissy told him gently, turning away from Noe to face him. She looked worried and harried, and Clive felt a bit guilty. “Noe’s a very strong telekinetic, and he has problems keeping his emotions separate from his power. When he’s overly stressed, he drops into a trance and puts up a protective shield until he can center himself.”
“That must suck for his love life.” Clive commented, and Chrissy scowled.
“Clive.” She warned, twisting her hands together again. “Don’t press him when he comes out.”
“Right.” Clive agreed easily, his eyes slipping back to Noe again. Noe just sort of stared and trance or no, he looked rather spooked. Clive frowned a little, hitching up his borrowed pants again.
Chrissy sighed, drawing her hair back with both hands for a moment before letting it fall down again. “Alright. Out, back to the kitchen. Both of you. It’ll be a few hours before he drops out.”
“You’re just going to leave him here?” Clive asked, more than a little incredulous. Even if Noe couldn’t hear anything, or probably see anything… Clive didn’t like it, and that was ridiculous.
“Yes.” Chrissy shooed Eric out ahead of her. “He’ll be fine. Come on, eat something before I begin to think you’re avoiding food.”
“I’m not.” Clive grinned, deciding he’d come check on Noe after eating something. Maybe. If he was feeling generous and Chrissy and Eric weren’t in the area. Eric especially, since the bastard kept giving him less than friendly looks. Clive had been nothing but nice to him – he’d even tried to give him a lap dance last night, before Noe had interrupted. Stretching out his sore back a bit, Clive turned on a socked heel and followed Chrissy and Eric from the living room.
Noe breathed out slowly, his muscles screaming in agony as he twitched. Letting his legs fall off the couch, he winced, bending over to follow because his muscles really did not want to unknot. Coughing out a breath, Noe stared at the living room. It was dark, only a single lamp lit. Groaning softly, Noe straightened carefully, flexing his fingers first.
The windows were dark, and clock above the mantle told him that it was nearly two in the morning. Noe sighed; he’d lost twelve hours. Stretching out his legs next, because he’d need them to get upstairs and to bed, Noe hoped that he hadn’t hurt Clive too badly. He’d never been so out of control before though. Noe wrapped his arms around himself, glancing around the room to distract himself.
There were two couches in the room, and a set of armchairs. It was more of a parlor than a living room, really. The other couch was set at an angle from the one Noe had planted himself on, and there was someone sleeping there. It wasn’t Chrissy, because it didn’t have her head of frizzy hair, and it wasn’t Eric because it didn’t have his dark hair, so it had to be Clive, with his head of platinum blonde curls.
Noe’s breath hitched a bit – he didn’t know how to deal with this. He couldn’t face Clive now – he’d probably hurt Clive and he’d been … intimate with Clive. He’d never – he’d messed up, he hadn’t been careful enough. Noe’s fingernails dug into his arms, and he fought to control his breathing.
He’d do better. He had to do better. Chrissy and Eric hadn’t yet shown any signs of ever being displeased with him, except for disappointment and then it was never punishment, but usually some sort of exercise or attempt to make him socialize a bit more. How they’d take this though – he’d hurt Clive. Not badly enough to kill him, since he was sleeping on the other couch, but still.
“Damn, you think loudly.” Clive grumbled, stretching. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, Noe noticed, fighting the feeling that he was fraying at the edges. That was a bad feeling. He needed to breathe.
Clive pushed himself into a sitting position, scrubbing a hand through his tangled curls. Pausing, he eyed Noe intently, and Noe’s fingers dug in that much more.
“What the hell are you panicking for?” Clive asked, looking faintly scornful. “Stop it.”
“I’m sorry.” Noe managed the words even if they wouldn’t do much good. Apologizing never helped.
“Don’t be.” Clive smirked, and he was wearing pajama pants that weren’t Noe’s but looked like Chrissy’s. Noe hesitated, unsure because he was supposed to be sorry. Clive stood up, and Noe snapped up a shield quickly, about two inches away from his skin at all points. Clive knelt down in front of him, his ordinary brown eyes much different from the unnaturally bright green from yesterday.
“Look, I’m sorry.” Clive ground out. “And don’t ever let anyone know I said that. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“I pushed you.” Noe told him, his breathing steadying a bit. His heart still thumped loudly in his ears though, and Clive smirked, tracing his own lower lip with the side of his thumb.
“So?” Clive shrugged. “Bruises heal. If I end up being too forward, you have to tell me. I’m forward.”
“I – I’ll try.” Noe offered, letting his shield melt away since it didn’t appear like Clive was trying anything. Clive smirked, and his skinny wrist had a ring of bruises around it too, fresh and dark and purple.
“Good.” Clive decided, tilting his head up again. Noe breathed a deep, steadying breath and wondered what happened now. “I won’t be – I didn’t know it would affect you like that.”
“What would affect me?” Noe asked quietly, watching Clive steadily. Clive squirmed a bit, and his face was pretty but his chest was far too skinny.
“My power.” Clive smirked. “I’m a succubus.”
Noe flushed, leaning back a little. Clive laughed, winking, and Noe’s flush burned hotter. Scrubbing at his cheek with the palm of his hand, he tilted his eyes away from Clive’s too intent gaze.
“So yeah, apparently powers shouldn’t be used against powers.” Clive continued, and Noe nodded. He’d known that. He hadn’t realized that Clive had been using his. He would’ve bet on Clive having luck magic or a bit of extra speed before succubae. “I won’t do it again, unless you want me to.”
“No.” Noe hastily denied. “I mean –”
“You mean no.” Clive grinned, and Noe sagged a little. Clive confused him, and he really wanted to go to bed and curl up and not move. He was going to hurt tomorrow, because of the twelve hours he’d spent curled up. “It’s fine with me, though Eric seems to think that I did it on purpose and am going out of my way to torment you.”
“You – no.” Noe shook his head. “I’m tormenting me.” He murmured distractedly, smoothing over the crescent shaped marks he’d dug into his arms. “I’m sorry, I should go to bed.”
“You should eat something.” Clive decided. “Come on, kitchen.”
“I – I’m not hungry.” Noe protested, blinking as Clive stood up. The drawstring of his pants was cinched rather tightly, and the pants themselves were extremely baggy. “I can – if you want smaller pajamas?”
“Nah, I’m good. I like to give the little man his freedom.” Clive smirked at him, and Noe curled his fingers around his sleeves, pressing his balled-up hands into the couch cushion to shove off the couch.
“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t tranced, you could’ve gotten some real clothes.” Noe apologized quietly, carefully taking a step and ignoring Clive’s words. His legs wobbled a little, but he could walk. Clive shrugged.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll just be borrowing your pants again. You won’t want them back.” Clive grinned, and Noe winced as Clive led the way to the door. “I got the scissors.”
“You can keep them.” Noe allowed, his feet pressing into the carpet comfortingly.
“Thanks.” Clive opened the door, letting Noe pass into the hallway before him. Padding down the hallway, Noe wandered towards the kitchen because he didn’t think Clive would let him get away with going upstairs.
“What do you want to eat?” Clive wondered out loud, fishing a pear from the fruit bowl on the counter. Taking a bite, he turned and surveyed the kitchen. “Though I don’t know where anything is.” He muttered through the fruit.
“I’m not hungry.” Noe repeated quietly, even though he knew Clive had heard him the first time. There was something… less threatening about Clive now, even if he was only half dressed (and probably less than that, if he was telling the truth and only wearing the pajama pants). Noe sagged onto his usual stool and fought the shaking in his hands.
“You’re not getting off that easily.” Clive scolded playfully, taking another bite of his pear. Wandering over to the refrigerator, he pulled open the freezer door and surveyed the inside for a moment. A triumphant noise sounded from within the freezer depths, and Noe waited patiently to see what Clive was going to force on him.
“Here.” Clive plunked a carton of ice cream down in front of him, grinning. “I hope you like rocky road.”
“I do.” Noe admitted quietly, sliding the silverware drawer across the room open and summoning a spoon to the counter.
“Good. Eat.” Clive ordered, pushing himself up and seating himself on the counter side of the kitchen’s island. “At least a little.”
“I – okay.” Noe conceded, flipping open the carton. It was half empty, and Clive took another large bite from his pear with a grin. “It needs to thaw.”
“Then it’ll be soup.” Clive shifted a bit, drawing a leg up on the counter so that he could face Noe a bit more squarely. “It’s supposed to be cold, you realize.”
Noe shrugged, picking up his spoon disinterestedly. He wanted to go to his room and curl up and reevaluate. Clive wasn’t behaving properly, and neither was he. It wasn’t right, and he wondered if Clive was still affecting him even if he said he wasn’t going to. But he’d notice – he’d noticed before.
“Eat it.” Clive poked the carton, nudging it closer to him. Noe dug the spoon in and absently ate a spoonful. The cold, even though he’d been expecting it, was a shock, and Noe was glad of the small spoonful as he swallowed it. It tasted good, at least.
“So.” Clive peered at him as he worked out a third bite of ice cream. “Can we talk? Without you freezing up?”
“No.” Noe denied, setting the next bite of ice cream into his mouth and letting it melt a bit. Clive blinked, looking surprised, and Noe smiled a bit. Clive scowled.
“Not nice.” He pouted, and Noe thought for a moment that his regular brown eyes were a lot prettier than his bright green eyes from last night. Noe shrugged a bit.
“You’re making me eat the cold ice cream.” Noe let the words fall from his lips without really thinking about it, somewhat surprised at himself after. Clive laughed, a pretty sound, and Noe flushed, ducking his head to stare at the ice cream.
“How about I ask you something and then you can ignore me if you like and answer if you like?” Clive suggested, dipping his finger into the carton and snagging a fingerful of ice cream. Catching the ice cream in his mouth, he licked his finger clean and Noe shrugged.
“I could ask you?” Noe suggested tentatively, wondering if he had any right to ask questions.
“Ah… alright.” Clive decided. “But it’s a question for question deal. If I ask fluffy, you have to ask fluffy.”
“Okay.” Noe accepted, wondering how he’d come to be sitting in the kitchen, chatting with a new patient. He never did this – he always hid or stayed as far out of their way as possible.
“I’ll start.” Clive told him solemnly. “Hmm. What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”
Noe blinked, startled. Pausing with the spoon halfway back to the carton, he watched Clive carefully.
“Just to start fluffy.” Clive explained, splaying his hand against the countertop for balance. “So?”
“Strawberry cheesecake.” Noe let the words slip out again, wondering after his sanity. This couldn’t end well. Clive would want to know what was wrong with him at some point. “When’s your birthday?”
“Nice.” Clive grinned. “October the ninth.”
Noe nodded, filing that away. Four months past then.
“When did you first manifest?” Clive wondered, his voice light. Noe shrugged.
“I think – four?” Noe sighed, taking another bite of ice cream to stall. Clive waited patiently though, and Noe swallowed quickly. “Four. You?”
“Twelve.” Clive replied quietly, looking somber for a moment. “What happened?”
“I threw something with my mind.” Noe shut the carton and floated it back to the freezer. He didn’t much feel like chocolate anymore. Opening the door, he slipped it inside and shut the door again. “A tea set.”
“A tea set.” Clive repeated wonderingly. “Cool.”
Noe shrugged – it had made a loud noise and scared him into bawling at the time. “What – what happened with yours?”
“Ah…” Clive hesitated, then shrugged. “It was middle and high school, and I was reeking of pheromones. I got a lot of… admiration.”
“Oh.” Noe flushed, propping his elbows on the edge of the bar and resting his chin on his palms.
“Hmm.” Clive stared at him speculatively. “What do you do for work?”
“Work?” Noe blinked, thrown. Clive didn’t seem to have a pattern to his questions, oddly, and Noe was relaxing a little. Chrissy and Eric would be proud, if they found out. “I sing.”
“You sing.” Clive repeated incredulously. “Sing what?”
“I’m a back-up singer for a studio.” Noe shrugged a little, hooking his ankles around the stool’s legs.
“Cool. Have you sung for anyone famous?” Clive asked, grinning brightly.
“Not… really. No one with a smash hit or anything.” Noe replied, smiling a little. “That was three.”
“Three what?”
“Four, now.” Noe smiled a bit more, and Clive stuck out his tongue, leaning slightly back on the counter.
“Three. Go.” Clive pointed at him, and Noe nodded, pausing a moment to contemplate.
“How old are you?” Noe decided, because Clive could be anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five easily, and the birthday question hadn’t helped pinpoint it.
“Eighteen.” Clive grinned. “Next?”
“You’re done with school?” Noe wondered, letting it be a simple question because he was running out of things he thought he could ask.
“In a manner of speaking.” Clive agreed cheerfully and Noe waited patiently for him to elaborate. Clive huffed after a moment of silence where the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise. “I dropped out a year ago.”
“Why?” Noe asked lightly, and Clive made a face.
“That’s not a fluffy question.” Clive muttered, and Noe kept quiet, wondering if Clive would answer. “Okay, so, I’m a succubae. Pheromone power and all that.” Clive started, his face solemnly still. “I can use it when I want because I’ve gotten a lot better at it recently, but before that and sometimes still, it would get away from me. Then I’d get a lot of… unwanted attention. School was full of people who were… persistent, because the attraction wouldn’t wear off until I told it to, and I still haven’t quite figured out how to do that.”
“But –” Noe started, because he didn’t think he was under the effect of Clive’s power anymore.
“You were on purpose.” Clive shrugged bony shoulders. “So I could stop it for you. Which I did, when I hit the wall.” Clive smiled wryly, and Noe nodded, acceptingly. “Alright… a less than fluffy question for you.” Clive warned, light brown eyes watching Noe carefully. Noe nodded slowly, wondering what Clive might ask. Leaning towards Noe, across the center barrier of the island, Clive held out a hand.
Noe stared at it for a moment before glancing questioningly up at Clive.
“Why don’t you like to touch people?” Clive asked, and Noe jerked back a bit. He almost unbalanced and toppled over backwards, the front legs of the stool tipping away from the island.
“You can not answer.” Clive reminded him, retracting his hand and letting it fall casually to the countertop next to his leg.
“I –” Noe shrugged. He didn’t want to answer. Clive had answered, though, and it really wasn’t fair for him to cop out. “I don’t know?”
“Either don’t answer or answer truthfully please.” Clive scolded lightly, then smiled at him. “But if you decline to answer I get to ask another question.”
“It’s complicated.” Noe replied quietly, setting his fingers on the edge of the counter and pulling his stool closer to the counter. “I don’t – I never have.”
“Because…” Clive prompted. “Since you can remember?”
“Since… I was four.” Noe let the words slip out, faintly remembering the way his mother would wrap him in a hug. It was distant though, like her, and Noe shook it away. “A few months after I manifested.”
“But before that you did.” Clive interpreted, looking interested. “So what about the why of it? Why don’t you like to touch people?”
“I’m not sure.” Noe fidgeted, wondering how many questions that was. “Ever since… it just feels wrong and – and it’s better to not touch than to get hurt touching.”
“Your turn.” Clive segued abruptly, and Noe met his eyes surprised. Clive shrugged. “Ask a non-fluffy.”
“Um.” Noe blinked, his mind blanking. Why were they doing this again? “I – why are you here?”
“To train.” Clive grinned, winking a bit. Noe stared at him, waiting for Clive to explain himself better. Clive snickered for a moment. “Fine, fine. I’m here because my uncle wants me better trained and can’t bother to do it himself. He’s also trying to see if he can’t get me to stop being slutty by sending me here. He thinks that training will somehow correct my terrible behavior and make me less of a stain on the family name and more of a malleable tool that he can use at whim.”
“Oh.” Noe paused. “Your uncle?”
“Yes.” Clive said slowly. “My uncle.”
“Okay.” Noe acknowledged, faintly curious about the coincidence.
“Why?” Clive questioned, shifting around on the countertop oddly. Dragging his other leg up, he sat cross-legged, his knees pressing against the central divide of the island.
“I lived with my uncle.” Noe shrugged.
“Why?” Clive repeated, grinning. Noe paused, staring at Clive hesitantly for a moment.
“My mother’s brother. I never knew my father, and my mother died a few months before I turned five.” Noe smoothed his hands over the cool countertop absently. “He was the closest and only relative they could find.”
“Ah. My father’s in jail.” Clive offered. “And my mother… dumped me on my dad when I was two weeks old and then ran off somewhere. So my uncle offered to take me in, because I had the markers of a power and he wanted to use it.”
“That’s–” Noe cut himself off, wondering at Clive. He seemed so… centered, unconcerned about it all.
“Terrible or something.” Clive finished for him, smirking a bit. “Except it wasn’t. I love driving him insane. He still thinks he can make me work for him, even though every attempt has failed for him.”
“Why?” Noe frowned, shaking his head. “I mean, why is he trying to get you to work for him?”
“He’s a businessman. Owns some big company or another. Getting me to influence and enthrall his competitors would be a great boon for him.” Clive shrugged. “I don’t want to though, I prefer picking my own targets.” Clive winked, but light expression he was going for fell a bit flat.
“Oh.” Noe frowned. Clive shook his head a bit, tossing his curls, and Noe’s mouth betrayed him again. “What is your real hair color?”
Clive laughed, the distraction fading from his face. “It’s brown. Ordinary, boring brown.”
“Why’d you dye it?” Noe asked thoughtfully, trying to imagine Clive with brown hair and failing.
“Half because brown is boring and half because it really annoyed Nelson.” Clive smirked, then eyed him thoughtfully. “Would you ever dye your hair?”
“What? No.” Noe denied, wide-eyed. He liked his hair the way it was, plain and black.
Clive snickered, peering at him thoughtfully. “You’d look wicked with silver streaks.”
“No.” Noe repeated, half wanting to shield his hair from view with his hands. Clive laughed, grinning widely.
“Maybe later.” Clive decided, and Noe tensed as a soft scuffing noise came from the stairway. Clive half-swiveled curiously, and Noe wondered how long Eric had been there. Eric smiled sheepishly, taking the last few steps into the kitchen. He wore an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts for pajamas, and his glasses weren’t in their normal place in front of his eyes.
“Sorry.” Eric yawned, and Noe wondered for a moment why it had been Clive instead of Eric or Chrissy sleeping on the couch. “I heard noise.”
“Sorry.” Noe apologized quietly. He hadn’t meant to wake Eric. Clive shrugged, watching Eric with cold eyes and Noe wondered what had happened between those two.
“We were just talking.” Clive said, his tone stiff and almost hostile. Noe froze a bit more, dropping his hands off the counter and curling them around the edge of the stool.
“That’s fine.” Eric smiled reassuringly at Noe. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just get to bed sometime soon. Chrissy planned to take you out sometime tomorrow morning for clothes.”
“Right.” Clive agreed, sliding off the counter. Hitching up his pajama pants, he smirked at Eric for a moment before turning back to Noe. “Goodnight, Noe.”
“Goodnight.” Noe replied quietly, relaxing a bit as it seemed that Clive wasn’t going to start anything and Eric didn’t seem mad.
Clive smiled brightly and headed up the stairs himself, leaving Noe and Eric in the kitchen alone. Noe stood up slowly, pushing the stool back to where it belonged.
“Are you okay, Noe?” Eric asked quietly, crossing the room and pausing about a foot away. Noe nodded, because he was, actually. As good as he usually was, and a lot less bad than he usually was when he came out of a trance.
“I’m fine.” Noe confirmed, tugging his sleeves into place properly. “I’m tired.” Noe decided after a half second. Eric could be predictable –
“Alright. If you’re sure.” Eric watched him for a moment more before smiling tiredly. “Go on, get to bed.”
“Goodnight.” Noe murmured, wondering at the defeat that lined Eric’s face. It didn’t make any sense, so he ignored it, offering a bit of a smile before heading for the stairs himself. Eric smiled back distantly, and Noe climbed the stairs slowly, sure it would be a while before he could make his brain shut down enough for him to fall asleep.
Clive yawned into his pillow, ignoring the knocking at his door. It had a deadbolt for some reason, so he was making judicious use of it and sleeping in. He could make Chrissy take him shopping later. Right now he was sleepy and warm. The knocking stopped, and Clive grinned, victorious.
Letting his eyes slip closed, Clive luxuriated in the warmth and wondered if Chrissy had a back-up plan. Probably. Didn’t matter though, unless it was Noe’s telekinesis. That was unlikely, though, since Noe was shy enough – and definitely shy not stuck up, like Clive had assumed yesterday – and he was skittish enough that Chrissy wouldn’t ask him to.
Noe was shy and skittish and odd and Clive liked him even if he went all careful and closed off around everyone. He wasn’t last night, and Clive wondered if he would be today, in the light of day away from the quiet kitchen.
Clive grinned – he really shouldn’t be working out a plan to get Noe more comfortable with touching, either. He’d only be here long enough to get his power under complete control – which unfortunately meant that he’d be spending more time with Chrissy and Eric. Still, there was something extremely appealing about the idea of getting Noe comfortable with other people – or just Clive.
Clive snickered. He could delude himself into thinking that he was being completely altruistic, because the idea that he just wanted to show Noe how enjoyable touching could be was really funny. And that was part of it – no one should stay isolated completely – but another part of it was that he really wanted to see Noe melt with pleasure (and maybe get some more pleasant bruises from Noe).
He’d start by making Noe go shopping with him. They’d ditch Chrissy and Eric at some point, and he’d make Noe get some better clothes too. His jeans weren’t at all cut for him, and he definitely needed a more flattering haircut.
Shoving the covers back, Clive rolled out of bed. Snagging Noe’s jeans off the floor, Clive pulled them on carefully, so that he didn’t catch his foot in any of the new holes he’d torn in them. Stepping around the pajama pants and past the two socks he’d discarded on the floor, Clive opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of white socks today.
Padding across the floor, he snatched up Noe’s shirt – unharmed because there were a limited number of things he could do to a shirt with a pair of scissors – and tugged it on. Pausing, he pulled on the socks one at a time and folded down the tops neatly. Fighting a yawn, Clive wondered if Chrissy would let him have coffee.
Unbolting the door, Clive opened it and wandered into the hallway. Noe’s room was down the hall, nearer the stairs and across the hall. Chrissy’s room was across from Noe’s, with Eric’s on the other side of the bathroom. Eric’s door was across from Clive’s, and every door except the bathroom’s were shut firmly. There was a spare empty bedroom between Noe’s and Clive’s, and Clive padded down the carpeted hallway slowly, wondering what they were going to do for shoes for him. He’d been wearing thigh-high boots with three-inch heels the night Eric had picked him up, and that didn’t make for comfortable shopping.
Pausing in front of Noe’s door, Clive knocked loudly and obnoxiously, continuing rapping on the door for a short interval past what was polite. Pressing his ear against the door, Clive listened intently. He had no doubt that Noe locked his door, so he didn’t bother trying the doorknob.
Faint rustling, so Noe was inside. Tapping loudly again, Clive waited impatiently for Noe to get to the door. He hated waiting. A moment later, the door clicked and opened. Noe looked deliciously rumpled, his pale grey-blue eyes blinking sleepily at Clive.
“Good morning.” Clive grinned, stepping forward. Noe predictably backed up, and so Clive was in his room. Noe let go of the doorknob, and Clive watched him carefully, not wanting to make the wrong move first.
“Good morning.” Noe echoed quietly, tugging at the hem of his faded white t-shirt. He wore loose pajama pants under that, and his voice was soft and pretty and Clive could entirely see him as a singer.
“How old are you?” Clive blurted out, and Noe blinked at him rapidly, obviously thrown. Thrown was good, because it meant that Noe wasn’t caged up.
“Ah – twenty.” Noe admitted, his cheeks staining with color. “Why?”
“You have what sounds like a real job.” Clive shrugged. “So I was curious.”
“Oh.” Noe smiled a bit, the corners of his lips twitching up just a bit and Clive decided that nighttime hadn’t destroyed whatever progress he’d managed to make with his curiosity last night.
“Did you want to come shopping with me today?” Clive wondered, wandering into Noe’s neat room.
“I – why?” Noe watched him carefully, as though he suspected that Clive wanted to wreak havoc among the neatness.
“Because I don’t want to go with just Chrissy.” Clive made a face, plopping down onto Noe’s bed, well-aware of the strategic hole in the thigh of his jean that rode up a few inches. Noe didn’t notice, apparently, just looked at him thoughtfully.
“I don’t – I don’t do well in crowds.” Noe told him quietly, his fingers finding the hem of his shirt again and curling around the bottom edge.
“Please?” Clive pouted, digging his toes into the soft carpet beneath his feet. “Shopping alone isn’t fun.”
“Who did you shop with before?” Noe wondered, and Clive grinned sheepishly.
“Ah, myself. Occasionally someone from school but no one more than once.” Clive admitted. “Come on, it won’t be bad. We can go to the mall. I promise to try on whatever you want me to?”
“Anything?” Noe asked, looking amused as his hands uncurled from around the bottom edge of his shirt.
“Anything.” Clive paused. “Not underwear.”
Noe flushed, but smiled. “And…”
“And?” Clive prompted when Noe paused.
“If I get overwhelmed, can we leave?” Noe looked away, contriving to look casual and merely looking more tense.
“Okay.” Clive agreed, because shopping with someone who wasn’t having fun wasn’t any fun. “Let’s go tell Chrissy. Maybe she’ll just let us go alone.”
“She has to drive.” Noe shrugged. “Maybe she’ll drop us off and pick us up later.”
“Maybe.” Clive grinned, pushing up from Noe’s bed. “Get dressed and come downstairs. I’ll be trying to convince her.”
“Okay.” Noe accepted, looking a bit nervous. Clive dropped a wink as he sauntered past, opening the door and plotting how best to convince Chrissy that her presence wasn’t necessary.
