Fourteen
Kaj had barely slept. He hadn’t drunk a cup of coffee yet. And still, he wasn’t as out of service as he’d be any other day without those two things, especially the latter; sleeping was overrated.
That was the Noah effect.
Correction: Noah’s dick effect.
After years of living—more like surviving—with unresolved, repressed trauma, Kaj had become a ticking bomb. Some said he was simply weak. Others said he was lazy because instead of getting professional help to deal with whatever he was dealing with, he’d gone the easiest route. People always had an opinion about his life, even though they didn’t know shit about him. However, none of them had walked in his shoes, so he didn’t give a fuck… anymore.
It had taken him forever to actively look for help. That was true. But even when Kaj admitted he had issues and needed some sort of counseling to get out of the sinkhole he was in, finding someone fitting for him was hard.
After Kaj overdosed almost two years ago, when he got out of rehab the first time, he had three appointments with different psychologists, but none felt right. He didn’t connect with them, not enough to want to talk about his darkest secrets. Two relapses and a handful of therapists later, he finally found the one for him.
Kaj had struggled to open up and tell her about the abuse at the beginning. He’d stayed on the surface, beat around the bush, and didn’t really let her in. But one horrible nightmare and a third relapse did the trick. When he came to her office the next morning, he crumbled, becoming a big crying baby as he blurted everything . It was cathartic.
November third last year had marked a before and after for him.
Since then, they had talked and talked. But some days, Kaj didn’t feel like sharing or learning about how his body responded to stress or how to identify and reframe his problematic thinking, so she’d allow him to wind down in different ways. Writing music was his favorite. It was unconventional, but it worked for him. It helped him relax and express his feelings even when the words didn’t come out.
There was still a long road ahead of him, but the noise in his head wasn’t as constant and loud as it used to be. And yet, last night made Kaj feel more liberated than he’d been in years. It was as though his lungs had been filled with concrete and suddenly there was only oxygen, blood, and… hope.
Kaj had no idea how his brain chemistry worked when he was around Noah, or why he was the only person who made him feel this way. But he missed it—the steadiness, the almost absolute tranquility. There was still a war waging inside him, but his world wasn’t spinning out of control. And it confused him.
Shaking his head, Kaj put on his sweats and the T-shirt he wore last night, and walked out of the en-suite.
“You should’ve woken me up,” Noah said, propping his cheek on a fist.
“What for?”
“Continue the fun in the shower?” Noah’s tone dripped with sarcasm.
“Thought you could use some sleep,” Kaj said as he approached the bedside table to grab his phone and wallet, where he kept the key to his room. The truth was, he didn’t want to face Noah in the morning after what they’d done. He needed some distance.
“So do you.”
He did, but he was also used to functioning sleep-deprived, so it wasn’t an issue. “I gotta get to my room before everyone wakes up and they catch me getting out of here.”
“Right.”
“We’re sleeping in another bus tonight,” Kaj started. “But we should buy lube and condoms.”
Noah flashed him one of his infuriatingly shitty, sexy grins, getting out of bed with a semi-hard dick that made Kaj hesitate for a second. “So you weren’t lying last night. We’re gonna keep this—whatever it is—going on.”
Kaj rolled his eyes and walked toward the door. He hadn’t lied, but he definitely needed to talk about it with his therapist, who he was video-calling in… Kaj checked Hilde’s last message from yesterday.
Remember your appointment with Dr. Mortensen is at 7 a.m. our current time (1 p.m. for her)
It was stupid,and it made him feel like a little boy in kindergarten, but it was what it was.He needed guidance.
“I’ll get the lube,” Noah said as he followed Kaj to the door. At least he had the decency to put on his trunks. “You get whatever condoms you prefer.”
“Deal.”
Kaj stepped out of the room, but before he could put enough distance between them, Noah grasped his stainless-steel necklace and pulled him against his mouth. It was cruelly brief, but their lips molded to each other perfectly for a second before Noah nipped at the bottom one, dragging it between his teeth.
“You better not run away this time.”
“Not a chance, if you keep sucking me the way you did last night.”
“Good.” Noah smirked, then closed the door.
The drummer scrubbed a palm down his face before crossing the hallway. What the fuck is this man doing to me?
Kaj entered his room and checked the sparse belongings scattered around. There wasn’t much to pack as he’d barely unpacked in the first place. He never did when it was just one night.
Kaj gathered everything and tucked it neatly into his battered duffel bag—his larger suitcase was downstairs, in a locked safe room, with the rest of the crew’s stuff and the gear. He folded a couple of T-shirts, tossed in some clean socks and underwear, and zipped up his toiletry kit. As he was shoving his phone charger into a side pocket, the device vibrated on the bedside table.
Dr. Mortensen. Kaj took a deep breath and answered the video call.
It was the first time they were doing a session like this. She’d suggested it, so he didn’t go without a check-up for an entire month and a half. Especially since the summer festival tour in Europe started right after this one, and he wouldn’t have much time then, either. The lack of sleep, the pressure of schedules, being surrounded by alcohol and drugs could hamper his progress, and at this point, he didn’t want to go back to who he was, so he’d accepted.
“Morning, Kaj,” she greeted, warm blue eyes crinkling as she smiled. “How are you doing?”
Kaj sat on the chair by the desk, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m okay, I guess.”
“That doesn’t sound too good.”
“No, no, I’m good. I think?” Kaj frowned, and she tilted her head, making his chuckle fade into a sigh. “It’s been an interesting couple of weeks.”
“How so?”
“I’m still having nightmares,” Kaj admitted.
“Anything in particular?”
“Not really. Most of the time, I don’t remember in the morning. Just wake up agitated.”
Dr. Mortensen merely nodded. “Are you taking the melatonin I prescribed you?”
“Hmm… No.”
Her eyes narrowed a little, as if she was reading exactly what was on his mind. “You won’t get addicted to this, you know?”
“No, yeah. I know.” Not really . “But I don’t wanna depend on meds to be able to sleep.”
“First, it’s not meds . It’s a natural thing your own body produces. And second, we’ve already talked about what happens to our neuroreceptors when we don’t get enough sleep.”
“Yeah.”
“And that is…”
Kaj huffed. “Impaired cognitive function.”
“If you want to get better, you need to rest. It’s part of the process, along with everything else. Life on the road must be exhausting as it is. If we take sleep out of the equation, I don’t even want to imagine.” Her gaze softened. “Please, take it.”
“Okay.” Kaj’s mouth tugged into a lopsided smile.
“Now, tell me. How’s the tour going? How are you feeling?”
“Honestly, better than expected. Being busy all the time and the adrenaline from the shows helps me not think about anything else. It’s keeping the cravings at bay… Though—” he hesitated, a lump forming in his throat. “Something happened last night.”
Her expression remained neutral, but her eyes sparked with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Kaj took a deep breath. “I—uh… I had sex.”
“Okay?” Her tone came out like a question, as if she knew there was more to that story.
“With Noah,” Kaj added.
For a moment, she said nothing, and Kaj braced himself for impact. Dr. Mortensen had never shown disappointment or been judgmental, but people are opinionated. So, you never know.
However, all she asked was, “How do you feel about that?”
The question caught him off guard, but since last night he’d been dozing off between one orgasm and the next, Kaj hadn’t stopped to analyze how he felt or what it meant that they’d had sex and were planning to do it again, or what he wanted it to mean. Did he even want it to mean something?
While living in denial was avoiding the present reality, ignoring the underlying emotional reason for all of it—like the doc had hinted a few times—was easier. Reality hurt, and Kaj was tired of hurting. He just wanted to enjoy one thing without feeling guilty or questioning every decision he made.
“I’m not sure,” Kaj said. “I felt good. Like, unnaturally good. It was a rush, but without the crash afterward. But it’s also confusing as fuck.”
After that one day, when he figuratively opened the emotional tap, Kaj had told her the story of his life. From losing both his parents to coming out, being raped and gaslighted, the self-harm, the attempted suicide, his inability to trust people, the constant alertness, and everything in between. So, she was perfectly aware of the history between them.
“I know I’m supposed to avoid having sex,” Kaj started when she didn’t say anything. “But—”
“Kaj,” she interrupted, “recovery isn’t about following a strict set of rules. It’s about learning to navigate your emotions and make healthy choices. Celibacy is a suggestion in cases like yours because it helps you to stay focused only on yourself. But it’s just that, a suggestion.” Dr. Mortensen paused. “What is it that really worries you?”
Kaj leaned back in the chair and averted his eyes. What worried him?
“I guess…” he started. “I’m worried that this is just another way of numbing myself. That I’m using Noah as a substitute for drugs.”
Dr. Mortensen nodded. “That’s a valid concern, but you said before you’re not feeling the need to use these days.”
“I do feel it. It’s just not as strong as I expected.”
“Then, what makes you say that being intimate with Noah could be a substitute for it?”
I wouldn’t exactly call it being intimate , but whatever, Kaj thought, chewing his lip as he searched for the right words. “I honestly don’t know. My mind is mush.”
“Okay, let me rephrase it. I’m sure you’ve had plenty of opportunities to engage in sexual relationships with other people during the last few months,” Dr. Mortensen stated. “Yet you said no. Why do you think that is?”
“What are you implying?”
“Nothing. I’m asking you . What is different this time?”
“The person.” Kaj frowned at the speed with which he responded. “I don’t know why, though. I can’t stand being around him without getting angry. And then—well, there’s this time I… hurt him. We talked about it two weeks ago, more like we fought about it? Ugh, I don’t know.” Kaj scratched his nape. He’d never told her about the dubious consent of that night. Told no one, really. “Anyway, the thing is, he saw it completely differently from me. And the guilt I was carrying, it’s not there anymore. It’s weird. And now I don’t know how to act around him. I don’t know what it means that we keep coming back to each other time and time again.”
Dr. Mortensen mirrored Kaj as she leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “Being wary of intense emotions is normal, especially considering where you come from. But human connection can be incredibly powerful and healing. We’re social creatures. It’s natural for us to find comfort in others. The key for it to be healthy is balance.”
“Great, because I excel at both those things.” Kaj snorted bitterly.
“You just told me how you had a difficult conversation about a past incident with Noah, yet you haven’t mentioned anything about putting to use any of the harmful survival mechanisms you’ve developed over time.” Dr. Mortensen paused, allowing her words to sink in. “There will be setbacks and challenges as you continue this journey to heal yourself. The important thing is that you’re aware of your concerns and actively working on them. But you also need to celebrate your achievements. Everything you’re telling me today is nothing but a sign of growth. Be gentler with yourself, will you?”
Kaj’s fingers traced the edge of the desk. “But what if I’m just fooling myself? What if this is just another way of avoiding dealing with my issues? What if I hurt him or myself again and all this progress goes to shit?”
“ What if we stop thinking about the hundreds of possibilities the future could hold and focus on the present?” She smiled at him. “Perhaps what you need to work on now is setting boundaries that feel safe and comfortable for you .”
As they continued talking, Kaj felt a weight lifting from his shoulders. Having a plan, even a loose one, made the prospect of this old yet new relationship with Noah feel less daunting.
The roar of Chicago’s crowd still echoed in Kaj’s ears as Artificial Suicide walked down the stage. Sweat was coating his forehead, and his T-shirt clung to his body like a second skin. While their roadies were dismantling their equipment, the corridors filled with lots of people wandering around—the venue’s staff, reporters, groupies, and other crews.
The air smelled like dirt, dust, cheap cologne, and what the drummer could discern as a clogged toilet. You got used to the environment after being in the scene for so many years. So much so that nobody batted an eye or paid attention to a couple dry humping in a semi-hidden corner.
Backstage it was all noise and no privacy, which for once Kaj would have been grateful to evade. Watching a big-ass US producer drag Noah to the side to talk to him when they entered the dressing room turned the adrenaline of the performance into shimmering poison.
He did not own his bandmate. That Artificial Suicide was a family for Kaj didn’t mean it was the same for Noah. But knowing this and wanting to stand by it didn’t stop his stomach from dropping or his heart from beating with rage.
What did they need to talk about, anyway? They’d been engrossed in a conversation before the concert, too. It wasn’t like they were fixing all the world’s problems. From what Kaj could hear, they were just sharing impressions on the venue, the atmosphere in general, music, and life on the road.
What if this dude had offered Noah a better deal? Maybe a position in some other band but with higher profits? A solo career? It wasn’t strange for some vocalists to do that.
Kaj grounded his teeth.
Without percussion, there was no base, no foundation, no rhythm. Without guitars, the harmony, melody, and texture didn’t exist. Without the bass, everything else lacked depth and connection. The vocals only embodied the song, adding lyrics and occasionally an extra emotional dimension. Yet, even being the newcomer, Noah was the most talked about. Always the center of attention .
“Fucking legendary night,” Xander exclaimed as he walked out of the bathroom, where he’d been for half an hour. He always took forever when he was shitting. “The amount of videos already flooding the media is insane.”
Aksel nodded in agreement, his usually perfect hair now a mess of knots and frizz. “Love Chicago so much. I swear I could feel the stage shaking the entire time we were up there.”
With a sonorous sigh, Xander let himself fall on the couch, grinning like he always did after a concert. “Best show of the tour so far.”
“Best show?” Kaj snorted, twirling a drumstick between his fingers as he sprawled on an armchair. “I’d agree if our frontman hadn’t fucked up.” His eyes, sharp as flint, fixed on Noah when the promoter finally left and he walked toward them. “How could you forget those lines in the second verse of ‘Hell to Pay’?”
Noah rolled his eyes and entered the bathroom, leaving the door open. “It was one mistake in an almost two-hour set.”
“The fans pay—”
“The fans didn’t notice,” Noah cut him off while taking a leak, his tone cheerful. “And if they did, they didn’t care. Just like when you sped up the bridge like an amateur.”
“Speaking of fans ,” Kaj continued. “ Mr. Producer looked quite interested in you. What was all that about?”
Noah laughed as he walked out of the bathroom, zipping up his jeans. “Jealous much?”
“Please,” Kaj scoffed.
“It was nothing. Just two music nerds sharing opinions.”
“And during the concert?” That man standing on the stage’s left wing while they were playing, following Noah’s every move, had made the skin on Kaj’s scalp prickle.
“What about it?”
“He was eye-fucking you the whole damn time.”
“Just because you find me irresistible doesn’t mean everyone else does, Larsen.” Noah’s eyes narrowed slightly, then he smirked. The vocalist was toying with Kaj, and he was letting him.
Kaj nodded with a condescending gesture. “Is that how you plan to grow your community ?”
Noah’s mouth twitched as he glared at him. “What the fuck is your problem?”
The air in the room thickened. Xander and Aksel exchanged confused glances, and Markus, who’d been cleaning and re-stringing the bass before packing it, suddenly found urgent business elsewhere.
“Can you two not do this tonight?” Xander sighed, clearly fed up with their bickering. “I thought you were over this bullshit?”
The door to the dressing room swung open with a bang that cut through the tension like a knife. Niels, who had a mater’s degree in wrangling four metalheads with egos larger than their amplifiers, swept in with an expression that suggested he’d rather be herding cats than dealing with them.
“There are about ten industry people waiting to kiss your collective asses before we hit the road tonight,” he said, his voice carrying a distinctive Norwegian drawl of don’t-fuck-with-me authority. “So get out there as soon as possible, please. And for fuck’s sake, you two.” He glanced between Noah and Kaj. “I could smell the testosterone from down the hallway. Do I need to bring some baseball bats next time so you can solve your problems once and for all?” Niels surveyed the room like someone who’d seen it all and was thoroughly unimpressed by any of it. “Fantastic show tonight, by the way,” he added, abruptly changing the subject. “Arkham Records is really pleased with your results so far during this tour. Keep up the good work, yeah?”
“Will do.” Xander nodded.
“Good. Now take a shower. Seriously. You stink. We’ll be waiting for you outside. And no more soap opera scenes.”
Although the manager’s intervention had successfully defused the brawl, Kaj couldn’t help but roll his eyes at those words.
The band members dispersed. They helped the crew finish loading the gear before taking turns to shower and change. And two hours later, after briefly talking with some reporters and promoters, with the tension between Noah and Kaj lingering like stale cigarette smoke, they were finally on the bus.
Kaj slid into his bunk, pulling the thin curtain shut with more force than necessary while the rest stayed outside, hanging out and playing video games. He put on his earphones and closed his eyes, darkness blooming behind his eyelids, offering a glimpse of the peace his mind longed for.
Live performances always left him vibrating like one of his cymbals after a vicious hit. But lately, with Noah, that feeling had transformed into something else.
Even through the blur of anger and envy, Kaj couldn’t deny it. The way Noah commanded the stage, standing in the middle of it with the mic close to his mouth, walking from one side to the other, getting up on the platform at the front, crouching down, jumping, and interacting with their audience like he owned their fucking souls… It was like watching a titan rise from a deep slumber. Powerful. Breathtaking. Unstoppable.
Just thinking about it was enough to make Kaj’s body react, transporting him directly to the mess of sheets, desire, and moans they’d been last night.
Fuck .
It was supposed to be a one-time thing. A way to get that man out of his system so Kaj could press the restart button and continue with his life. It wasn’t supposed to leave him wanting more, so hollow and torn.
Dr. Mortensen had said it could be a good thing to explore sex again since Noah seemed to be someone Kaj was truly attracted to and not just some excuse to elude his fears, but the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced this was like playing Russian roulette—potentially lethal.