Looking back on it, it might have been the adrenaline. Or the painkillers still burning slow and warm through my bloodstream. Or maybe it was just Noah Riley, all wide-eyed and flushed and looking at me like I was worth touching gently. Whatever it was, somewhere between his mouth on my throat and his hips dragging against mine in that bed, common sense quietly packed its bags and left the building. 

I had cracked ribs, bruises blooming across half my body. But when Noah whispered, “Tell me if it hurts,” against my mouth, all that pain didn’t mean a damned thing. 

I kissed him harder. Desperate enough that our teeth knocked together a little. My hand slid under his shirt, dragging over his warm skin and shaking muscles while he gasped into my mouth, still trying to hold himself back even as his body was telling him no.

“Michael,” he breathed, totally wrecked already.

“Get over here,” I muttered back, tugging him closer despite the sharp protest from my ribs. “Need you.”

And something in Noah snapped beautifully at that. Like all the restraint holding him together finally gave out at once. His hands grabbed at me almost frantically, careful and rough in the same breath, and suddenly we were moving fast and clumsy against tangled hospital sheets, trying not to make noise while absolutely failing at it.

The whole thing felt reckless and breathless and stupid as hell. Kisses swallowed mid-gasp. Blankets twisted around our legs. Noah muffling broken sounds against my shoulder because, apparently, even as horny as he was, he was still polite enough to worry about disturbing the other patients.

Which honestly only made me want to fuck him even more.

Because underneath all that desperation was tenderness still. Every few seconds, Noah would pull back just enough to check my face, my breathing, my ribs, like he physically couldn’t stop caring even while he was falling apart with want.

And God.

That was the dangerous part. Not the sex. Not the risk of getting caught.

It was the way he touched me like I mattered.

The hospital door didn’t click open so much as it whispered behind the curtain. A faint metallic sigh that cut through the wet rhythm of Noah’s hips rolling against mine as we fucked hard and fast.

I was on my back, gown pushed up to my chest, legs spread, hands gripping Noah’s waist, watching his back arch and his head roll back as he rode me in reverse. His bare ass cheeks slapped against my thighs with each slow, deliberate descent. The angle was devastating. He was taking me deep, my cock sliding into him at a different angle that made him whimper with every thrust. 

Noah’s moans were low and guttural, not quite human sounds. His hands gripped my shins for purchase, knuckles white as he rode me hard and fast, sweat glistening down his spine, T-shirt shoved up to almost his neck as I held it out of the way with one fist. 

The curtain rattled.

Noah froze mid-thrust. His head snapped toward the door toward the sound. 

I felt him clench around my cock, a reflexive shockwave of muscle that had me hissing. And my own body locked up a second later, heart hammering.

The curtain jerked back.

David stood there with a coffee cup half-lowered in one hand, steam curling lazily from the lid. His expression didn’t change at all. Same exhausted, unreadable stare he wore for everything. But his eyes tracked slowly downward anyway, over Noah’s flushed face, over the tangled blankets, over the slick glimpse of skin where our bodies met, that glistening connection, before Noah shifted abruptly and tried to cover both of us with the blanket at once.

“Nurse was very busy,” was all David said. “I got a cappuccino in cafeteria.”

I nearly blacked out from rage on the spot. “Get out! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Noah’s face went scarlet. His whole body trembled against mine, but he didn’t move away completely. Didn’t scramble off the bed. He just stared back at David with this mortified little spark of defiance burning through the embarrassment.

David took a slow sip of coffee and reached back to pull the curtain closed behind him. “You know, in Russia, hospital staff would spray you both with hose by now. Like dogs fucking in parking lot.”

Something primal woke inside me. “Piece of shit—!” I started and tried to sit up. 

“Michael, please,” Noah whispered weakly, fingers clutching at my chest like he was trying to physically hold me back from violence.

“No, don’t ‘Michael’ me right now, Noah," I growled at him, fist clenched in the blankets.

David snorted softly into his coffee cup. “Ah. He uses your full name when annoyed. Serious relationship already. When is wedding?”

I tightened my grip on Noah’s hips, every muscle in my body coiled and ready to launch myself at the bastard standing there with his fucking cappuccino. The rage was white-hot and blinding. I could feel my cock slipping out of Noah as I tried to shove upright again, the loss of contact a distant annoyance compared to the need to wrap my hands around David’s throat. 

“Let me up,” I snarled, low and dangerous.

“No,” David replied flatly, “Do not stop on my account. I will leave you to it.”  And he turned to head back towards the doorway.

Noah’s nails dug into my thighs, leaving little crescent moons behind. His face was still violently red, curls falling into his eyes while he tried…and failed to look composed.

“Michael,” he whispered. “Stop.” 

The words came out quietly, but they carried so much weight. I froze beneath him, chest heaving, staring up at him. He was still straddling me, trembling, but his eyes had steadied. Then he glanced toward David first, then immediately looked away again, as if eye contact itself might kill him.

David had stopped near the curtain, coffee still in hand, one dark brow lifted slightly in surprise.

Noah swallowed hard, then he looked back down at me. “Maybe he can stay,” he mumbled.

The words hit me like a punch to the face. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Noah’s entire body tightened instantly at my tone, but he didn’t back off completely. “I just…I mean…” He broke off, mortified. “He already saw everything anyway.”

My cock twitched against his inner thigh at the words, and I hated myself for it. Hated how the thought of David watching with his cold, judgmental stare. That bastard. Sent a thrill through me that I didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Noah—”

His fingers flexed nervously against my thighs again. He looked like he wanted to crawl under the hospital bed and die, but somehow he still pushed through it. “I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “It’s just…” His voice dropped lower, “This is kinda embarrassing...” He ducked his head. “Oh my fucking God, I can’t even say this out loud.”

David, pervert of the century, looked totally fascinated now. “No, please continue. This is the best day I’ve had all week.”

Noah avoided looking at both of us now, and instead, pretended to gaze longingly at a pain chart on the wall. “Maybe I like that he saw,” he confessed in a rush. “Just a little.”

The air in the room changed. Something electric and charged settled between the three of us. My rage cooled, not into acceptance, but into a grudging curiosity.

David lifted an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. And then, after all of this, the walking in on us. After embarrassing Noah half to death and standing there letting the tension spiral into the single weirder moment of my life. The bastard said:

“No.”

Noah looked just as confused as I felt. “But—”

“Michael has broken ribs,” David said, pointing at me. “Concussion. Stitches. He should not even be breathing aggressively right now.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you fucking serious right now, dude? You just stood there for ten minutes, psychologically torturing us!” 

“And now I am stopping you from making worse decisions,” David said, taking another sip of coffee. “You are welcome.” And he smirked faintly then, dangerous, crooked-looking enough that I suddenly understood exactly why people got into cars with him despite every survival instinct screaming otherwise.

The asshole knew he was attractive, too. Not pretty like Noah, though. Noah looked soft even when he tried not to. Sweet face, nervous hands, shy eyes that gave away every emotion before he could hide it. The kind of guy who apologized when somebody bumped into him.

David was something else entirely. Dark hair falling into cold gray eyes. Leather jacket creaking whenever he shifted. Rings glinting on his fingers around the coffee cup. He looked like he’d rob a bank and then lean against the getaway car, flirting with the police officer sent to arrest him.

Complete and utter fucking menace.

“You are such a goddamn dick,” I told him, pushing myself upright with one arm despite the sharp stab in my ribs.

“In Russia, this is considered charm,” he replied simply.

“Explains a lot about you, actually,” I shot back.

David snorted softly and then looked toward Noah, who was gingerly climbing off my lap. “Get dressed,” he told him. “Visiting hours are over.” And he checked the watch on his wrist. “We are leaving before nurse comes back.”

Noah’s expression changed instantly. The embarrassment was still there, of course. His cheeks were pink, curls wrecked, shirt all crooked, but underneath it, something harder surfaced. “You don’t get to decide that,” he said quietly.

David lifted one shoulder. “I just did. Get dressed. I will not say it twice.”

Noah yanked his jeans up roughly over his hips, nothing shy about the movement anymore. “Seriously?” He snapped. “You walk in here, stand there watching us like some fucking creep, embarrass me in front of the cute guy I like, and now suddenly you want to control me?”

David narrowed his eyes slightly. “Do you think it’s good idea to fuck injured man right now?”

“That’s between me and Michael!” Noah practically shouted at him. “I think you’re an asshole. I think you like controlling every room you walk into. And I think it’s really fucking weird that you’re acting like you’re entitled to tell me what to do when we’re not even together anymore, David.”

Damn.

“I’m not that dumb kid you met in that lab back in Antarctica.”  Noah continued, voice low and furious as he fixed buttons and zippers aggressively. “I don’t need you to protect me, or follow me around, or come to my rescue.” 

David’s expression hardened slightly at that. “I was not rescuing you.”

“Bullshit.” Noah grabbed his jacket off the chair. “You always do this. You show up out of nowhere, acting like you own every situation and everybody in it. But you don’t get to walk into my life whenever you feel like it. You disappeared for eight months. What was I supposed to do with that?”

David went dangerously still, the line of his shoulders tightening. His fingers tightened once around the coffee cup, silver rings glinting under the fluorescent lights. Then he looked away, jaw clenched.  “I walk in and see you on top of him…” He gestured sharply toward me. “While he is injured already. While you are emotional. While neither of you are thinking clearly—”

“That doesn’t mean I’d hurt him!” Noah shot back instantly.

David’s nostrils flared as he exhaled. “Noah,” he said, “if next time you lose control, you will kill Michael.”

Noah’s face went completely pale beneath the flush, eyes wide and glassy with something that looked dangerously close to panic.

“Noah,” I started immediately.

Noah shook his head and grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair. His fingers tightened hard around the sleeves while he shoved his arms into them too quickly, nearly missing one hole the first time. His breathing had gone uneven, like he was trying not to cry.

“You’re a dick,” he told David, voice watery. “Fuck you.”

Then he looked at me. And God, that almost wrecked me. The second his eyes met mine, his expression softened around the edges automatically. “I’ll see you later, Michael,” he said quietly.

He tried to smile a little when he said it, but it didn't fully work.

Something in my chest twisted hard enough to hurt worse than the ribs. “Hey,” I said softly, "Riles. C'mere."

Noah hesitated near the side of the bed. Then, after the smallest pause, he stepped closer again. Slowly this time. Like he was unsure if he was still allowed to.

My heartbeat kicked harder the second he leaned down toward me. His curls brushed my forehead first, soft and familiar, carrying the faint smell of soap. One of his hands came up instinctively, careful against my jaw.

And then he kissed me so gently it almost killed me. Not desperate like before. Not filthy or heated or reckless. Just Noah Riley. Warm mouth against mine for a few quiet seconds while the rest of the room disappeared around us.

I felt the tiny tremor in his hand where it rested against my face. Felt the way he lingered afterward like he didn’t really want to pull away.

When he finally did, he stayed close enough that our noses brushed. “When they let you out, I want you to come stay with me,” he whispered. “At my trailer. There’s a key under the front mat if I'm at work when you show up.”

“Yeah?” I replied, smiling at him a little. 

His eyes flicked downward briefly, shy even now somehow. “Yeah.”

I huffed out the faintest laugh. “Bossy.”

That got the tiniest real smile out of him, all crooked, cute, and beautiful enough to make my chest ache. Then he kissed the corner of my mouth once more, quick and nervous like he couldn’t help himself, before finally stepping back.

David stayed completely silent near the curtain, not looking at either of us now.

Noah wiped quickly at one eye with the sleeve of his jacket, then shoved past him hard enough that their shoulders slammed together on the way out. A second later, the curtain snapped closed behind him.

David stayed at the curtain longer than he needed to, one hand still resting against the fabric like he could still feel the shape of Noah on the other side of it, like letting go too soon might mean losing something he’d just barely managed to keep from breaking apart in his hands.

By now, Noah’s footsteps had already disappeared down the hallway, swallowed whole by distance, fluorescent hum, and the indifferent rhythm of a hospital that didn’t care what had just happened inside this room.

The light from outside cut across David’s profile in a hard, surgical line, sharpening the angles of his face until he looked less like a man standing in a hospital room and more like someone carved out of something colder.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Michael.”

My eyes lifted immediately. “Yeah?”

“There was police officer asking questions in hallway,” David said, "About you. He told nurse he will be back tomorrow to speak to you."

Ice water ran down the back of my neck.

"Marko will come get you in the morning." And only then did David finally turn toward the curtain fully, stepping through it into the hallway after Noah, leaving the room colder than when he entered it.