Disclaimer – Anything you recognize doesn't belong to me, although I do wish that it did.
***Notes – This chapter does contain sexual content. Also, thank you to everyone who dropped a review and let me know what they thought – I really appreciate it!
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Driving to the station, Luke felt Noah's anxious gaze on him, more than once. Luke wanted to smile at Noah and reassure him that he was okay, but he found that he couldn't. All of his energy was focused on what he was going to learn at the station; hoping against hope that there would be something there to clear him of his regret, his guilt.
When Noah slowly grasped his hand and squeezed, Luke knew that he should squeeze back, and let Noah know that he was there with him. Instead, he let his hand lay limp in Noah's until Noah released it. Luke turned to look out the window, studying the scenery with an abnormal fascination. Every tree, every leaf that Luke saw was something that Ethan never would. Stop. A small, unfamiliar voice in Luke's head whispered. You need to be strong, not weak. Focus on what needs to be done – finding out what the cops know. Don't be weak.
Placing his hands on his legs, Luke slowly raked his fingernails up and down the side of his thigh, feeling the sharp sting of his fingernails digging deep through the denim. Knowing that he shouldn't enjoy the pain, yet finding that it calmed him, focused him, Luke continued his soothing movements: up, down, up, down.
Luke was so lost in his comforting actions that he didn't notice when they pulled up to the station. Noah's soft voice whispered in his ear, and reminded of where he was, and of what he had to do. Raking his nails so deep that he thought he might break the skin, Luke took a deep breath before schooling his features to an expression of calm and looked at Noah.
"Alright, let's go.' Luke said, pretending he didn't see the combination of worry and caution etched on Noah's usually impassive face.
Noah made an undeterminable sound of agreement before jumping out of his truck and running to Luke's door to open it. As Luke stepped out, a low hiss involuntarily came out of him; although he hadn't been technically injured in the car crash, the whiplash still fucking hurt.
Ignoring Noah's increasingly worried look, Luke grabbed Noah's hand and headed for the station building; pretending that Noah believed the Luke holding his hand was a sign of intimacy, and not a rushed gesture like they both knew it to be.
Noah led them both to a side door. Luke was about to ask what they were doing when Noah knocked on it, and the door opened to reveal a young officer.
The officer glanced at Noah before settling his gaze on Luke. An indiscernible look passed through the officer's eyes before he beckoned them through the door and walked down the hallway.
Noah moved to follow, but Luke quickly grabbed his shoulder and pulled them back. "Who is that, and why aren't we going through the front door?" Luke found himself asking, internally hating the gruff quality of his voice.
Noah winced before replying. "That's Constable Harrington; he's the officer overlooking the… case. When I was here earlier to drop off your mechanic information, I talked to him."
"That's fine, but why are we going through the back door? Are we not supposed to be here?" Although Luke knew he shouldn't give a damn about what door they went through, he wanted a reason for the cloak-and-dagger act before he set another foot into the station.
"Luke, the last time I was here, there were lot of your relatives in the building. I thought we could avoid having to talk to them over and over by coming through a different door. I texted the Constable – we exchanged numbers when I was here last – and I asked if he could arrange to have us enter through this door."
If Noah's explanation hadn't melted a tiny portion of Luke's frozen heart, the earnest expression on his face would've. Wanting to kiss Noah in thanks of what he did, but feeling too guilty, too dirty to do so, Luke settled on grabbing both of his hands and squeezing them. "Noah, thanks." Luke said, the tone of his words saying what the words alone couldn't.
Noah seemed to understand what Luke meant, and squeezed his hands once more before releasing one and walking them down the hallway to a small, official-looking room. Upon entering, they noticed the officer, Constable Harrington, sitting at his desk and mulling over stacks of papers. Noah knocked at the door to let him know of their arrival, causing Harrington to look up.
"Mr. Mayer, Mr. Snyder, take a seat, please." Harrington offered, gesturing towards two chairs that had been set up on the opposite side of his desk.
Once they had both settled, Harrington brought his gaze up to Luke's, matching brown eyes with green. "Mr. Snyder, I would offer my deepest condolences to you, but I know from experience that the words of a stranger are not going to make you feel any better. I am, however, sorry for the pain that you're going through, and I am going to do whatever I can to end this investigation as soon as I can."
The Constable's bluntness seemed to surprise Luke at first. He quickly recovered, and a sliver of grudging respect entered his eyes.
"So," Harrington continued before Luke had time to reply to his initial statement, "I need to ask you some questions, Luke. I know you've already given a statement, but we need to go over some other details. Is that okay?"
"Does it matter if it's okay?" Luke mumbled under his breath, before raising his voice and addressing Harrington. "Sure. What do you need to know?"
Harrington continued to ask Luke a series of seemingly-inane questions, such as "Who's your mechanic," and "When was your last repair?" Luke knew that all of this information was in the folder that Noah claimed to have brought to the station, but figured they were testing him.
When they almost finished a half an hour later, Luke stood up when a manila folder fell to the ground, brushed off the table by Harrington's elbow. Official looking papers fell out of the folder, along with several photos that Luke only caught a glimpse of. Harrington instantly dropped to his knees to collect the folder, before abruptly standing upright. As he did so, Luke noticed the words "SNYDER, E" written on the front of the folder in block writing.
As if he were not himself, but simply a spectator observing the situation, Luke half rose in his chair and aimed his question at Harrington. "Are those photos of the accident?" Harrington's silence confirmed Luke's suspicions.
"Let me see." Luke whispered, the low tone of his voice slicing through the room like a knife. "I want – I need to see the pictures."
When Harrington began to voice reasons why Luke couldn't see the evidence, Luke sharply cut him off. "Constable Harrington, I was there. I was there when that car went off that bridge, I was there when we went down a fifty foot embankment, I was there when my little brother died. I deserve to see those pictures."
Reluctantly, Harrington removed a select few photo's from their manila folder and slid them across the table. Luke felt Noah lean over his shoulder in an attempt to see the pictures as well, but paid him no notice. His entire focus was on the glossy photos in front of him.
Harrington had given Luke three photos to see – they were most likely the tamest ones of the bunch, but they still caused Luke to feel like he was going to throw up.
The first picture showed the marks on the road that were left from Kevin swerving back and forth. Glancing at it, Luke remembered the terror and the fear he felt; for both him and his brother. Switching his gaze to the second picture, Luke felt as if someone had punched him the stomach, punched him hard and left him gasping for breath.
The picture showed Kevin's car, lying in the ravine that had been at the bottom of the hill. It was passenger's side up, and the damage to the car was extensive. The driver's side resembled an accordion, with the most damage occurring on the back half; right where Ethan had been sitting.
Luke knew that he had seen the car when the accident had occurred – after all, hadn't he looked in the backseat for Ethan? But staring down at that photo made everything more real, made the entire situation sink into Luke, sinking past his shock and fear and slightest hint of denial.
Wrenching his gaze away from the second photo, Luke settled his gaze on the third. He stared at it for a long moment, unable to pinpoint was his emotions were. The photo was a close up of Kevin in the hospital. Turning the photo over, Luke found a small piece of paper with a list of Kevin's injuries. Pulling it off of the photo, Luke read what was listed, having a harder time as he progressed down the list – partly because his hands were shaking so hard that the entire paper trembled like a leaf caught in a harsh breeze.
Every injury, ever technical term on that paper reminded Luke that Kevin was alive while Ethan was not. Instead of reducing him to sobbing, hysterical tears like Luke expected, he found that he grew colder, number; much like how taking a swig of vodka used to make him feel. Knowing that his feelings should scare him, but being comforted instead, Luke read the injuries out loud for Noah to hear.
"Patient Kevin Davies exhibits four broken ribs, a fractured femur, severe concussion, and general post vehicular accident 'soreness'." Luke's voice sounded robotic, even to himself. "That's it? That's all he got for murdering my brother?"
Harrington opened his mouth, presumably to comfort Luke, but Luke cut him off. "Forget it. There's nothing you can do. Do you have anymore questions for me?" When Harrington shook his head, Luke stood up and tugged on Noah's hand to pull him out of his chair as well. Without a word, he walked out of Harrington's office, scarcely hearing the shrill ring of Harrington's cell phone in his desperation to leave the room.
Due to his hastiness, Luke missed the way Harrington's face darkened and flushed as he listened to the man on the other end of his phone. Luke also missed the widening of Harrington's pupils and the sweat beading on his forehead, betraying his emotions, his fear. And most importantly, Luke didn't hear the last words Harrington whispered before harshly shutting his phone; "Don't involve an innocent again."
The ride back to the farm was painfully slow, much like running underwater. It wasn't the oppressing silence that had Noah feeling jittery, though. It was the emotions rolling off of Luke in waves. Luke had been on a hell of an emotional roller coaster; Noah got that, he truly did. After all, hadn't Noah lost family, too? But what he didn't get was why it seemed as if Luke had just given up. Normally, anger within Luke led to stupid, yet passionate moments. Memories of Luke's disastrous election campaign and blowout fights when he was with Ameera flashed through Noah's head.
This time, it seemed as if Luke's anger was suffocating him. Instead of treading the current of his emotions, he was just sinking, not fighting back. The complete defeat radiating off of Luke was something that Noah had only seen a handful of times before – but never to this level. What changed in those twenty minutes with Harrington?
After what seemed to be an endless amount of time, Noah finally pulled up into the Snyder farm. Before he could utter a word, Luke practically flung himself out of the car and began jogging out toward the barn. Swallowing a curse, knowing that he had to be 'strong Noah, patient Mayer,' Noah stuffed his keys into his pocket and ran after Luke.
"Luke!" He called, knowing his words wouldn't stop Luke, but feeling like he had to try. "Luke, wait!"
"Luke!" Noah yelled again as he ran into the stables. "Talk to me, please?" Noah glanced around, knowing that Luke had to be nearby. He checked in every stall before going to the Snyder's tack room. When he opened the door, he found Luke gathering riding equipment, the spastic quality to his movements hinting at his hidden distress.
"Luke, what are you doing?" Noah asked cautiously.
"What do you think?" Luke snapped, his earlier depression gone. "I'm going to take Shadowdancer out for a ride, obviously." Even though Luke's words were dripping in his usual bitchy tone, Noah could tell that they were lacking intent.
"Luke…" Noah started, reaching towards his lover. Luke stepped back, causing Noah's hand to fall short of its' destination, before ducking past Noah and heading towards Shadowdancer's stall.
"Noah, I need to go for a ride. I just – I need to. I need to do something, and I can't here, I can't because when I'm here all I see is Kevin, that bastard, and he's alive and okay and Ethan's not. I need to just go." Luke explained, wishing desperately that he could make Noah understand how badly he needed some semblance of control; even if it was from riding his favorite mare.
"Noah, I just, I need to feel something. I'm numb, Noah. And if I'm going to help that Constable, hell, if I'm going to help my family through this hell, I need to feel. I'm scared, I'm scared because of how numb I am." Luke knew that his sentences were disjointed, but he couldn't stop rambling. "My sisters, my grandmother – they don't know. When they're back, I need to be not-scared for them; I need to be strong. I can't do that if I'm numb. Please, Noah…." Luke begged, not sure what he was asking for, but knowing he needed it anyways.
"God, Luke." Noah murmured, trying to wrap his brain around what Luke was saying. "I love you." He offered, knowing that it wasn't enough but unable to say anything else. "I love you so fucking much; what can I do? Anything, Luke – tell me anything, and I'll do it."
"Noah, make me feel again." Luke begged, closing the distance between him and Noah in a few short strides. "I don't romance – I just want to feel. Please?" Luke gasped as his groin pressed against Noah, hard and real and there.
Looking into Noah's eyes and seeing the doubtful expression there, Luke knew that it would take more than talk to convince Noah that this was what he needed.
Not giving Noah time to process what was happening, Luke dropped to his knees, yanked down Noah's zipper, and pulled his half hard cock out before swiftly swallowing it. Noah's hips instinctively surged forward, pressing himself further into Luke's mouth.
Luke gagged slightly, but refused to slow his relentless pace. He needed this, and knew that on some level, Noah did too; even if his boyfriend was too noble to admit it. Feeling Noah's fingers thread through his hair, Luke became unreasonably terrified that Noah was going to pull him off of his knees, make him stop.
Desperately, Luke grasped Noah's hips and pulled him forward, essentially shoving him into his mouth. He groaned around Noah's cock, knowing that the vibrations would drive Noah crazy, as they always did. Just as he predicted, Noah moaned deep in his throat as his hands tightened in his hair; pushing him deeper into Luke, not pulling him further away.
Knowing that Noah was willing to be with Luke in every sense of the word gave Luke a sliver of the control he had been missing ever since his car broke down. Being on his knees with Noah's cock in his mouth and hands in his hair gave Luke more sense of power than he had felt in days; more than he could ever feel on Shadowdancer. The irony was not lost on him, but he refused to sit around and ponder it. Feeling Noah throb in his mouth, he turned his attention away from his thoughts and towards more… pressing matters.
Focusing on Noah, and only Noah, Luke escaped reality for a few short minutes. Fisting his hand around the base of Noah's cock so he wouldn't come – at least not yet – Luke slowly released Noah from his mouth, until just the head of his cock was between Luke's lips.
Noting the whimper his action drew out of Noah, Luke continued to tease him, sliding his tongue across the slit on the top of Noah's cock with barely enough pressure. As he did so, he continued to pull his mouth off of Noah's cock until he was nose-to-dick, panting warm air onto it.
Knowing how torturous all of this teasing was to Noah, but finding that he couldn't give it up, Luke continued to lay light, fleeting touches on Noah; his cock, his balls – everywhere he could reach.
As he began to ever so lightly suck the head of Noah's cock once again, Luke wondered what was driving him to demand such complete control over his boyfriend. Noah loved him; Luke knew that as well as he knew his own name. So why was he almost desperate to prove to himself that Noah wanted him, desired him?
Noah's broken "please," jarred Luke out of his ponderings, and he suddenly felt like more than an ass for putting Noah through such sexual agony. Standing up, Luke undid his belt and pulled down his jeans in record time before kicking them off. Grabbing Noah's hand, Luke pulled him into the tack room, shutting the door and locking it.
Noah was standing in the middle of the room, so many emotions on his face that even Luke couldn't decipher them all. The one expression that was undeniable, however, was the desperation and lust etched on Noah's features, with just a tinge of guilt. Knowing Noah, Luke guessed that his lover was feeling guilty about wanting Luke when Luke was so "vulnerable."
The sudden swelling of affection in his heart took Luke by surprise. Not wanting to feel things as fragile as emotions, Luke pulled Noah's body into his and smashed his lips onto Noah's. Their teeth clinked as they explored one another mouths; Noah's desperation for more barely held in check.
Knowing that Noah needed this just as badly as he did, Luke broke the kiss and kissed his way up Noah's jaw line to his ear before saying "Noah – let yourself go. Please." The words weren't a demand, or a request. They were a plea, and Luke hoped that Noah would understand what he was asking.
The sudden, bruising pressure on Luke's lips reassured Luke that his message was all too clear. The kiss quickly turned into a fight for dominance. Luke knew that Noah wasn't feeling the need to be in control, but was merely supplying what Luke had asked for. That knowledge didn't lessen the intensity of the kiss, but instead added to it; Luke wasn't quite sure why, but didn't bother to wonder.
Before he knew what was happening, Luke had both his and Noah's shirts off. Breaking the kiss, Luke turned around and bent over one of the saddle holders that protruded from the wall at waist height. Instantly, he felt hands everywhere – on his legs, arms, stomach – seemingly touching everywhere and nowhere.
Luke cried out when a hand touched his cock, which was hard against his stomach. He cried out not just from the pleasure, but from the want, the need to just feel and forget. He felt a tongue working its way down his back, heading for his ass. "No!" Luke gasped out, "Not tonight." Luke hoped Noah understood that he didn't want the intimacy, the connection that came when Noah rimmed him; tonight, Luke just wanted a good, hard fuck. "Make me forget." Luke whispered, not even sure if Noah heard what he said.
Luke found that he didn't care whether or not Noah heard when a finger slid into him, slickened by what Luke assumed was saliva. The thrust of the finger was hard, fast, and slid against his prostate, causing Luke to whimper. A second finger was quickly added, followed by a third. Their usual foreplay wasn't there; Luke knew that the fingering was for preparation only, and not for pleasure as it normally was. He found that unexpected, unexplainable swelling of emotion yet again as Noah followed his every wish to the letter, albeit unconsciously.
All of Luke's pesky emotions disappeared when he felt Noah's cock press into him, causing a burning that bordered on painful. Memorizing each muscle that stretched, each centimeter of him that burned, Luke pushed back on Noah.
A hand wrapped around Luke's stomach, pressing him closer, before Noah angled his body and thrust right there. Luke sobbed in pleasure before bucking back, pulling Noah impossibly deep. Every buck of Luke's hips pressed Noah deeper into him, and every time Noah thrust, Luke's cock rubbed against some stray blankets that were hanging off the saddle hook, the friction creating undulating pleasure.
Luke heard a high keening noise enter the room, but couldn't find himself to be embarrassed when he realized that it was coming from him. Instead, he slammed his ass into Noah, pressing deeper, wanting more, needing more. He felt Noah's hips move faster, and faster, before Noah shuddered and came in Luke with a low moan. And when he finally climaxed, and when his vision went white, he felt whole. In those too-brief seconds, Luke's fear, his guilt and his self loathing, were gone. All that was left was pleasure, and love – love for Noah, despite the tone of their coupling.
As Luke came down off of his high, all of his previous emotions came rushing back to him. The knowledge that Noah was there, and that Noah could make him feel better acted as a paper-thin shield between him and his emotions. The shield was weak, it wasn't always going to be successful, but it was there.. Turning his head, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of Noah's head, which was lying on Luke's shoulder.
"Thanks," Luke whispered, hoping one day he could explain what Noah was doing for him.
"For what?" Noah asked, his voice hoarse from their fucking.
"Just… for." Luke mumbled, knowing that he made no sense, but not wanting to press the matter. He knew that when his afterglow faded, he would be back to where he was one hour ago – hating himself, fearing for his family, and scared shitless about where his brothers investigation was heading. At this moment though, he let himself be selfish, and pushed it all from his mind – thinking of nothing but Noah's warmth against his back, Noah's lips pressed into his shoulder, and Noah's love, surrounding him like a blanket.
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