Splintered Hearts

One

Noah

Oh, god, I missed this.

“You smell so good.” My skin warms with the soft purr my date makes and all I need is to get... to get... Cecil? Seth?

Not important.

Whatever his name is I need to get him naked immediately.

Exhaustion weighs me down, more than the time I’d trained for the naked Olympics during my junior year of college. I knew working for my father after graduation was going to be horrible. I just didn’t fully grasp how horrible.

Whoever invented adulting needs a punch to the taint.

Yet, for two weeks, none of that matters.

Dear old Dad is in Germany, meeting with investors or whatever boring shit he’s doing, and he’s left me alone for two entire weeks. All by myself.

An unsupervised Noah is a dangerous Noah.

No staff.

No rules or schedules.

Just me and whoever I decide to bring home.

Is it Sirius? Sonny?

God, what is this guy’s name?

“Holy fuck,” Sebastian moans, making a meal of my neck and tickling my ear. I vibrate with impatience, wanting our clothes off already! Seth slips his fingers under my shirt, pulling me tight against his solid body.

This. This is what I need.

Being the son of one of the wealthiest men in New York has its perks, there’s no denying that. It’s just... I hate everything about it. Lately, I can’t focus or care about anything. It’s stifling, and I’m slowly losing my mind.

Suits and schedules. That just isn’t me.

Every morning it’s the same bullshit—dress in a suit that feels too tight and scratches my skin, then take my father’s town car into the city in deafening silence where I spend ten to twelve hours doing mindless bullshit.

When I finally get home, I’m too tired to even attempt to write, and lately, even read. What hurts most? No matter what I do, it’s never enough. You’d think working this hard would impress Daddy dearest, but nope. Couldn’t he be just a little fucking proud? Would it kill him?

Maybe.

I’m sure if he showed any emotion other than disdain his face would melt clean off the bone.

But so many people have it worse, I just have to swallow it. How I feel doesn’t matter. I’m a poor little rich boy with a high-paying job and a mansion to live in. Boo fucking hoo.

“What’s wrong?” Simon asks as his fingers slide against my cock, and... oh, oh yes. Whatever. Head in the game. Right now I have a tall, gorgeous man with rippling muscles looking to do dirty, unspeakable things to me.

Salvador parts my thighs with his knee, brushing my cock, and I collapse back into the wall, twisting my fingers in the soft fabric of his black shirt. “Fuck, you’re so sexy... uh...”

Wait a minute.

“You can’t remember my name can you?” Well, at least I’m not the only one. “It’s Noah.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Running my hand through his curly black hair, I can’t help but smile at how cute he is.

“Don’t feel bad. I’ve been calling you muscle hottie in my phone.”

“Muscle hottie?” Santi’s lips grow into a wide smile as he leans down to kiss me hard, and bracing my hands on his forearms, I lean into it. “I kind of like that.” Long fingers grip my jaw as he leans in for another soft kiss. “It’s Sam, though. But feel free to keep calling me muscle hottie.”

“Well, let’s go, muscle hottie.” Grabbing Stephen’s hand, I make my way up to my room, jerking back as he shakes his head.

“Right here.”

“What—”

“I want this pouty little mouth wrapped around my cock right now.” He runs his thumb down the center of my bottom lip and my dick jerks.

“My room is right up—” Saul silences me with a toe-curling kiss. My fingers tickle against the slight stubble of his jaw. I just want to feel that scratch between my thighs.

Grabbing me under my knees, he lifts me easily. This. This right here is worth the bullshit. My preferences are simple—I like big guys. Muscular. Strong. Strong enough to lift me, manhandle and dominate me, without breaking a sweat. I enjoy topping too, but this feeling is unmatched.

“Anything off limits?”

I try to think, but nothing comes to mind. “Don’t pee on me.” Santana jerks back. “Not that I’m judging! I’m just saying.”

Barking out a laugh, he sucks a kiss into my neck. “I promise not to pee on you.”

“Okay, good talk. Meeting adjourned.”

“I am going to fuck you, though.” I hiss at the sharp sting of teeth scraping along my throat. Maybe I should be more worried about love marks, but I cannot give one single shit right now. “Are you going to be a good little slut for me?”

Um . . .

Okay then.

My hackles rise. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. After tonight Sean will be a distant memory. “Y-yeah.” Swallowing down that churning feeling in my gut, I focus on now. “Give it to me.” I’m fully prepared to get fucked right here in the living-room doorway. I do not care. “Condoms and lube.”

“I got you.” He pulls out a tiny packet and I look for the other.

“Condom?”

“I’m clean, baby.”

“Not happening.” I don’t fuck one-night stands bare. Hooking up may be my favorite pastime, but I’m safe. Always. Frequent testing, condoms, and being smart. I even made Mark wear one when we first started hooking up during college. So if one of my dates gets pissed about having to wear one, well, no ass for them.

Steven sighs, and on any other day, when desperation wasn’t sending all the blood straight to my dick instead of my brain, I’d say fuck this and not him. Right now, all I want is release. Reaching into his pocket, Sid grabs a bigger foil packet and hands it to me.

“Thank yew!” Dropping to my knees and wiggling my fingers like it’s Christmas morning, I begin to unzip his pants.

Big. Small. Long. Thick. Curved. Circumcised. It does not matter. The possibilities are endless. Every box has a magical surprise inside.

Slowly unbuttoning Sutton’s jeans, I lean in to mouth along his boxers, and fuck, I can’t help but inhale. Masculine. Fresh and clean and so damn good. I feel precum leak from my slit and I cannot wait a second longer. When I pull his boxers down and let his dick spring free, it nearly hits me on the chin.

Oh . . . hell yes.

Mouth watering, I look up. Scottie’s dark eyes are locked on me. Taking his cock in hand, I roll the condom down his shaft. While I don’t like the taste of latex, I’m too horny to care. Wrapping my fingers around his girth, I give him a slow jerk, pulling a moan from his lips. “Put your mouth on it.”

His head smacks the wall as my lips wrap around his head, and his hands run through my hair as I go to work. Giving him a slow suck, I let each low rumble and grunt that leaves him fuel my desire even more.

Squeezing his fingers against the door and into my hair, he mutters something in Spanish, but I only catch some words here and there. My attention is fixed on his gorgeous cock. I almost wish the condom wasn’t between us so I could taste him. It’s heaven and heat. It’s—

“What the fuck is going on?!”

No.

No. No. No fucking way!

Scrambling back, I believe it’s some sick trick my mind’s playing on me. How? I had two fucking weeks! I stand up, and the room is dim but not dim enough. Skyler jerks his pants up with fear and confusion in his eyes. “Dad, I—”

Ignoring me, his eyes land on Seth. “Get out.” Not wasting another second, he doesn’t spare me a glance, and runs.

Thanks.

Okay, that’s unfair. He doesn’t owe me a thing. The front door slams, leaving us in silence. What am I going to do? My father’s face is unreadable. Terrifying. “Uh...”

Slowly, he begins to walk toward me, green eyes like my own looking through me. A lot of the features I have are from my mother. My height. My curly brown hair, freckles, and the absolute inability to see without glasses or contacts. My eyes are his, though. “Look, I—”

Pain splinters above my eye.

I choke on air, holding my face, feeling the warmth seep between my fingers. He hits me again. And again. Blood drips from my face onto the carpet. “You are disgusting.” Holding my temple as more hits come, I do everything I can to block them. It’s pointless, but I try. A slap. A punch.

Rolling onto my back, I can’t see out of my right eye, and with the last of my strength, I roll onto my side so I can stand. As I get up onto wobbly hands and knees he kicks me again. My ribs scream. Again and again. I hug my body, trying to protect myself the best I can. Something cracks, and I break a little more inside.

“Ah—” Fisting my hair, he yanks me upright, forcing me to look at him.

“You have five minutes to get out of my house before I kill you.” He throws me toward the stairs, and I barely catch myself from eating the carpet again before scrambling my way up them. Blood and tears make it hard to see.

Adrenaline fuels my movements as I make it to my room. Finding my phone, I pull up an app and request a ride, then grab my suitcase. I stuff in as much clothing as I can fit, and look through my room, thinking of what else I should grab. I opt for my ideas notebook, my reading logs, my e-reader, and then finally the Alice in Wonderland collection I’d begun after Mom died. Everything else could be replaced.

“Shit.” I reach under my bed and grab my jar. There has to be nearly three grand in here now. Daddy dearest gave me an allowance in college and I saved most of it for an emergency. He assumes I used it for partying.

Footsteps echo down the hall. Grabbing my bags, I make my way down the back steps and out the staff entrance.

Fresh air stings my face and I’m faintly aware I’m dripping blood onto my shirt. Light blooms in the distance. The car I called comes into view and I take my first real breath of air and try to process exactly what’s happening. I slide into the car, ignoring the alarm in the driver’s eyes, and minding his own business he focuses on peeling out of my driveway. “Uh, Where to?”

Shit.

Well, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Where could I even go? This is not the time to realize my options are so limited, but I do have one place. Hating to have to do this I say, “Pulglass, but can we swing by a bank?” Grabbing my wallet, I check to ensure my bank card is there. Not like I’d be going back inside that hellscape if I didn’t have to, though—I just need the peace of mind. I’m going to drain what I can before he cancels my card.

“That’s going to be about two hundred dollars.” What the actual living fuck. How do people afford this shit? Okay, it is nearly two hours upstate. I knew it was a drive to Mark’s.

Whatever, I’ll just have to eat the cost, and fucking deal.

“That’s . . . fine.

Nearly two hours and two hundred and twenty dollars later, I’m standing at the end of Mark’s street. He’s going to kill me, isn’t he? Thankfully, my driver had some wet wipes so my face is only a little bit crusty with blood—it stopped bleeding during the ride, but my face still throbs. It’s like breathing glass every time I force my lungs to take in air. A rib or two are definitely fractured.

Thanks Dad. Kisses.

My adrenaline waned during the car ride, so I can feel every single place where my father’s fist and feet connected. I’m so damn tired, but I’m not about to fall asleep in a stranger’s car.

The sleepy neighborhood is quiet. I’m not used to it after the constant noise of the city, but Mark bought his house here after college, to be near Hunter and his family. The silence is strange.

Mark’s house comes into view, and I spot Hunter’s jeep in the driveway. Fuck! I forgot Hunter was moving in this week. Oh, he’s going to kill me. Well, look on the bright side, maybe he’ll finish what my father started. Limping up the steps, I ring the doorbell and wait.

The door swings open to a very disgruntled and nearly naked Hunter... and wow. Damn. Scrubbing his beard, he shakes his head. He’s an inch or two taller than me and built like a brick wall. Hunter is hot. His brown hair is cropped close to his head and his sleepy brown eyes look less than impressed. Following the dark dusting of hair on his tanned chest all the way down, my eyes widen, looking away. “Nice bulge. I can see why Mark likes you.”

“Jesus Christ, Noah. Do you know what time it is?”

Putting my bags down before my arms fall out of their sockets, I shrug. “No. I just decided to take a lovely stroll and see what Mark was up to. What time is it? Two? Four in the afternoon? Damn, it gets dark quick lately.”

“What’s going on?” I hear behind him. Flicking the lights on, Mark rubs sleep out of his blue eyes before they widen. “Holy fuck, Noah, what happened?” A witty comment dances on my tongue but I sag instead. I’m finally safe, and I tumble face first into that safety. Mark grabs me in his arms as a sob chokes out of me. “Who the fuck hurt you? I’ll kill them.”

I wish it were as simple as a date gone wrong. “Gonna be hard, seeing as he runs the largest security firm on the East Coast.”

“Your father did this?” Mark pulls back, inspecting me. “What happened?”

“Apparently, catching his son sucking a cock is just one of his triggers. Funny, right?”

“Holy shit, Noah.” He squeezes the life out of me but I don’t have the energy to tell him it hurts. Everything fucking hurts. Hunter must see it on my face, though, and he touches Mark’s elbow, loosening his grip.

“Come in.”

Mark handing me an iced coffee nearly makes me cry all over again—he knows me better than anyone on earth. Hunter comes back into the living room wearing a T-shirt and sweats, looking absolutely tickled pink about being awake at this hour. “I’m really sorry.”

Hunter’s jaw ticks. “It’s okay.”

It doesn’t feel okay, but I did wake the man up. Mark sits, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair. It’s a wasted effort, as the chin-length strands fall forward. I know he probably wants to beat the shit out of my dad right now. Tension vibrates from him, and Hunter slides a palm onto his thigh, squeezing it.

Fuck, they’re cute.

Opposites in every damn way, both inside and out. Hunter is shorter, but he has a lifter’s build and works out religiously—the leftover effects of being an athlete all through high school and college until an injury sidelined him. Mark is almost six feet tall and wiry, with ice-blond hair and baby-blue eyes that he got from his Swedish mother.

Their personalities clash as much as their appearances. Mark’s a hothead, quick to anger and overreact, while Hunter is calm and never lets too much bother him.

And shit, did I try to bother him.

“What happened? Tell me everything.”

So I do, start to finish. From the guy I took home, to my father finding me sucking his dick, to getting the shit kicked out of me, to running away. “I’m so fucking dumb.”

“Yes, but not because you’re gay.” The growl in his tone almost makes me smile. “You hate working for him. You should have come to stay with me after you graduated and said, fuck him . That’s what makes you dumb.”

“Babe—” Hunter squeezes his thigh and I’m thankful. I know Mark means well but his style of support is a little abrupt and to the point right now. I don’t need a lecture. I need a friend.

“Can I stay here tonight? Just for the night.”

“Stay as long as you need—” Mark looks at Hunter. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting, it’s not just me now. Do you mind?”

Hunter’s quiet for a moment before a smile slowly appears. I see it for the forced thing it is. “That’s fine.” He gets up. “I’m going to stay at the other house, just for tonight, so Noah can sleep in our bed.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I protest.

“You’re going to be in a lot of pain tomorrow. You need to sleep in a real bed. You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Puck Daddy.”

“Puck—” Hunter’s eyes close before he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss Mark on the forehead. “Be here for your friend.” Hunter disappears down the hall.

“Do you need a hospital?”

I don’t think so. The pain’s bad, but most of it feels surface level. Maybe a broken rib or two, but there wouldn’t be much they could do for that and I can breathe easier now. Part of me is afraid my father will find me if I check in to one. “Where is Hunter going?”

“To his old roommate.” I don’t miss the bitter tone.

“Jealous?”

“No. I just can’t stand him. Not really in a position to argue with him about it now, though, am I?”

“I’m sorry. I know you shouldn’t have to deal with this right now.”

“No, it’s fine. Stay as long as you need.” Mark reaches out a hand. “Let me cuddle that ass like we did in college.” He wiggles his blond brows and I gag.

“I will sleep in the yard.” Mark giggles, knowing I won’t do any such thing. “Don’t bring up our dark past.” Back in college we were strictly fuck buddies, then after a misunderstanding, briefly enemies. Then I forced him to be my best friend.

An unconventional start to our friendship for sure.

Hunter comes back into the living room with a bag, wearing an ice-blue hoodie I’m positive belongs to Mark. “Xavi is going to help me move tomorrow, that still okay?”

“Of course.” Mark pouts, tugging Hunter’s hoodie strings for a kiss as he passes.

I feel like shit. “I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, really.”

“Get some sleep. You need it.”

“You can sleep with us. I can sleep between—oh! A Mark-Noah-Hunter sandwich sounds like fun. I promise I only get hard when I’m nervous.”

“I would rather burn my pubes off.”

“Vivid. Thank you.”

Hunter gives me a sleepy smile, patting me on the head before looking at Mark. “I love you.” Giving his shoulder a soft squeeze, he walks out the door without sparing Mark another glance.

“You need a shower before you get into my bed.”

“I don’t smell.”

“You smell like sweat, shame, and blood. You need a shower. My bed is my temple.”

“You eat chips in bed.” But Mark’s icy stare doesn’t waver. “Fine!”

Exhaustion smacks me.

“Fuck that man.” He grabs me in a hug and I sink into the comfort.

“Hunter is a little hairy for my taste, but if you’re okay with it,” I whisper.

I lose Mark’s arms lightning fast. “Even when you’re in pain you’re still an asshole. I meant your father, but I know you know that.” Mark glares. “Hunter’s not that hairy.”

“He is, but it’s hot. It’s giving lumberjack daddy vibes and I’m into it.”

“I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or not.”

“I don’t want you guys to stop whatever you’re doing because of me. I’ll figure myself out, I just need a night to process.” Mark and Hunter are starting the next phase of their lives. I won’t get in the middle of it.

“Just worry about you. We’ll figure everything else out in the morning.”

The shower feels good.

Mark’s arms feel better.

And as I lie in them, I pray for sleep to find me before the tears do.