NB: I was unhappy with the flow of this story, so I submitted an amended version in August 2013
A squeeze of frustration accosted Noah’s stomach, and his face fell. “I can’t, I have another crazy day today. First this Java-shift, then a meeting with Mason before afternoon classes, and I’m getting together with my film-crew at Al’s for dinner to go over the first storyboards. I won’t be back until after 10pm.” The disappointment passing over his boyfriend’s face mirrored the look already present in Noah’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I know we haven’t spent time together in what feels like forever.” “Three days,” came Luke’s reply, as he tried in vain not to sulk. “Like I said: forever. But I have a full day off tomorrow, and it’s all yours, okay?” That promise supplanted the pout with a yawn. “It’d better be. I miss you.” Now fully dressed, Noah sat himself on the edge of the bed. He caressed the mussed up locks away from the sleepy beauty’s forehead before kissing him tenderly. “Me too.” Another kiss. “Go back to sleep, Luke,” Noah repeated. “I’ll see you tonight.” “’Mkay,” murmured Luke, his lover’s dulcet tones and soothing touches making him drift off again.
Coffee. He needed coffee. Scratching his head, a bleary-eyed Luke made his way into the kitchen, which was spotless. Despite the hour Noah had cleaned up after himself, leaving no trace of his early morning activities. “Christ, Mayer, you’re making me look bad,” Luke groaned, and checked the clock. 10.45am. Coffee. Definitely coffee.
He opened the overhead cabinet that held the French press and the Java espresso roast, to find a folded note with his name on it resting against the coffee-maker. Noah’s handwriting. Curiosity immediately replaced caffeine-hankerings and Luke sat himself down at the kitchen table to read it.
Growing up with my dad I was only presented with the downside of love. I could never imagine there was joy to be found in letting another person have so much power over me. And for as long as I can remember, the notion of it scared me. It felt as if, not only would I be showing somebody my weak spots with a convenient bull’s-eye painted on top of those, but I’d also be handing that person a free crossbow and an unlimited supply of arrows. And why would I ever want to do that?
Then I met you.
You accepted the offered crossbow and unlimited supply of arrows. You took them and locked them somewhere far away. You didn’t just throw away the key, you melted it down. And you met every bull’s-eye on display with a benevolent kiss.
The gift you gave me is immeasurable and I’ll never be able to convey what it means to me. “Thank you for loving me” is an insufficient expression. By any means.
I love you Luke Snyder. And I want you to know that. Even if I haven’t been able to show you in person these last few days.
Settling himself in the booth at Al’s, Noah started up his laptop in preparation for the storyboard meeting. He appeared to have five minutes to himself. About time. From a busy shift at Java, to Mason’s office (who, for once, wasn’t too critical of his script-changes), to clandestinely scarfing down a sandwich during his afternoon class on Godard, to Al’s; Noah had been going non-stop all day, and the day wasn’t over yet. But this five minute reprieve gave him a moment to check in with Luke, and hearing the sound of his voice would be enough to keep him going for the remainder of it.
Taking out his phone he saw he’d received a text, the arrival of which had gone unnoticed. There hadn’t even been time to check his messages.
Found the note. Your ‘I’m not good with words’-defence has officially lost all validity.
I am so in love with you.
Hurry home when you’re done, Bubby. I’ll wait up.
Familiar voices coming from the door signalled the arrival of the film-crew members he was meeting. With a sigh Noah checked his watch. 6.15pm. Four more hours ‘til Luke.