One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

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When I think that I'm moving on

Suddenly things stand still

I'm afraid 'cause I think they always will

And I'm looking for space

And to find out who I am

And I'm looking to know and understand

It's a sweet, sweet dream

Sometimes I'm almost there

Sometimes I fly like an eagle

And sometimes I'm deep in despair.”

- Looking For Space,SHAWN THOMAS

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His mind and body had went numb the moment Jonah left the booth, and when Mason had returned, nothing was mentioned of his son having been there. Or what was said. Of course Mason surely knew most of it – he had clearly been the one to set this up. Which made Noble wonder where the man truly stood in all this. Jonah may be his son...but would he really help him this way?

Maybe you're the one he's trying to help.

The thought hit and stuck, refusing to be dislodged, as he entered his apartment. Mason had dropped him off out front but hadn't asked to come inside. Better to leave you alone to mull over what just happened. He tried to summon anger, even a sense of betrayal, at the man for joining forces with Jonah to tempt him deeper into sin. So why, instead, was he feeling something akin to gratitude? Gratitude for what? He wasn't having a difficult enough time with everything as it was...he had to throw the man in his face? Literally.

Noble closed the door and dropped back against it, eyes closing tight as he shuddered at the remembered sensation of Jonah's lips grazing his, taunting him with a kiss that never delivered. But you wanted it to. Oh man, did you ever want it to.

A tight groan knotted his throat and he pushed away from the door with a heavy sigh. Was there even any value in trying to convince himself he didn't crave that kiss? But in admitting he wanted it...that didn't make it right. It just brought to light his weakness.

As with Mason, he struggled to summon negative feelings for Jonah and what he'd done today. But he was having a hell of a time dragging them to the surface. What, exactly, had Jonah done – but show him support? Display care and concern for him while allowing him to make his own choices? That was more than Rebecca had afforded him.

Stop it. Don't be in such a rush to be fooled. Maybe Rebecca's right about him and all this is just a carefully construed ploy. But Mason knew his son, didn't he? He wouldn't help Jonah play games with Noble. That just wasn't who Mason was.

“God.” Noble moaned, beginning to develop a headache. “why can't you just speak clearly? Why does everything have to be a puzzle for us to put together? Just one crystal clear sign would be greatly appreciated-”

“Noble.” Rebecca stood up from the table. “I'm glad you're home.”

I'm not. The thought snagged his mind before he could resist it. He entered the kitchen slowly, almost cautiously, as if she might suddenly grow claws and fangs again and rip out his throat. Or your crotch. Wearing your cup, buddy – 'cause this one takes cheap shots.

Guilt assaulted him at such thoughts, though he couldn't entirely disagree with them – which made him feel even more guilt. Didn't Rebecca have every right to tear into him? He was the one doing everything wrong, betraying her love. Shit, not an hour ago, he'd sat in the diner booth with the boner of the century, silently pleading with a man to kiss him.

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