4. The Dream

Noel fell asleep with Gabe Junior still pressed against his face.

The dream started the way most of his thoughts about Gabriel did, slowly and far too honest for comfort.

It began years earlier. Noel was fifteen, sitting on the back steps while Gabriel helped Benjamin fix the grill. Gabriel had handed him a cold soda without looking, and Noel had watched— without meaning to— the way those long fingers moved. He didn’t want to be doing that but his eyes just wouldn’t cooperate with that logic.

At sixteen, Gabriel had driven him home from a late study session and waited until Noel was safely inside before pulling away. Noel didn’t want to admit that for some reason, his heart fluttered because of that action. His heart always did that when Gabe did the smallest things, and he had chalked it up to some sort of disease at some point.

At eighteen, the forehead kisses had started feeling different, though Noel never said a word about it or complained. By twenty, the nickname “Angel” no longer just annoyed him. It got under his skin quite alright, but the truth behind the nickname irritating him the way he always claimed was beginning to feel pretty unreal and, like every other thing that concerned Gabe, Noel refused to address it.

The ‘admiration’ he always felt towards Gabe had changed so gradually that Noel never noticed the exact moment it suddenly became something else. Something that made his stomach tighten every time Gabriel walked into the same room as him.

In the dream, it was just another long day at the office.

The bullpen was empty. Rain tapped against the windows. Gabriel sat behind his desk in rolled sleeves, reading a file like nothing in the world could touch him. Noel stood across from him, arguing about a citation really didn’t matter. Mostly because he only wanted to have a reason to continue talking.

Then Gabriel looked up at him, and their eyes met. The argument suddenly died on Noel’s tongue. Those fucking eyes always undid him in the worst ways possible.

Gabriel stood and walked around the desk, he didn’t stop until he was so close, close enough that Noel could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his body.

One hand settled on the edge of the desk beside Noel’s hip. The other reached up and brushed a strand of hair from Noel’s face with a gentleness that made Noel’s knees weak.

“You’re trouble, Angel,” Gabriel murmured, voice low.

Noel’s back hit the edge of the desk, he felt trapped and… something else. Gabriel followed, crowding him until Noel was sitting on the polished surface, legs parted just enough for Gabriel to step between them. The kiss that followed was slow at first, almost careful, then it turned deeper and hungrier. Gabriel’s hands slid under Noel’s shirt, his warm palm mapping the skin that had never been touched like that. Noel’s fingers tangled in Gabe’s dark hair. Papers scattered all around them. A pen rolled off the desk and hit the floor. Gabriel pressed closer, mouth moving to Noel’s throat, and Noel arched into him with a sound he had never made before.

It felt real. Way too real. The weight of Gabriel’s body, the scrape of teeth, the way Gabriel whispered his name like it belonged only to him. Noel’s hands gripped the edge of the desk hard enough to hurt. Gabriel’s mouth returned to his, and the world narrowed to heat and need and the terrifying certainty that this was exactly what Noel had wanted for longer than he could admit.

Then it all ended.

Noel woke with a sharp inhale, his heart slamming against his ribs.

His room was dark except for the thin line of morning light under the curtains. Gabe Junior stared at him from the pillow with its single glass eye.

That was when Noel noticed that he was hard. Painfully and obviously hard. The thin sleep pants he’d worn did absolutely nothing to hide it. He grabbed the blanket and yanked it over his lap so fast that Gabe Junior nearly flew off the bed.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. “It’s biological, and very normal. People have dreams all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Gabe Junior’s one eye remained unimpressed.

Noel glared at it. “Shut up. You weren’t even in the dream. You don’t get to have an opinion.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, then glanced down at the tent under the blanket and cursed under his breath. “It was just a dream. A stupid, detailed, completely unrealistic dream. Gabriel would never— He’s Uncle Gabe. He’s Dad’s best friend. He’s thirty-five and I’m… this. It’s normal to dream weird shit when you’re stressed. That’s all it is. Stress.”

The dinosaur kept staring.

Noel’s voice dropped. “I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel it, can I? Fuck.”

He was still trying to cleanse his mind of the very realistic dream when a knock cut through the quiet.

Noel froze in place, before he could get up to answer or even hide his gigantic boner, the door opened. Right then and there, Noel pledged to always lock the door before he slept. If only he could survive this horrifying experience first.

Gabriel stood in the doorway, already dressed for work in a dark shirt, sleeves rolled, his watch catching the light. He looked faintly annoyed.

“You’re still in bed? It’s almost eight. I told Benjamin I’d pick you up so we could go over the Harrison revisions on the way. Get up and stop being—”

The words died when his eyes dropped to the unmistakable bulge.

Noel’s entire body locked. The blanket was still pooled around his waist, but the evidence of the dream was undeniable. Heat flooded his face so fast it hurt. Gabriel’s expression went completely blank for half a second, then an expression Noel had no definition for flashed across his face.

Neither of them moved. They just stared at each other, or more accurately, stared at Noel’s erection.

Gabriel’s jaw worked. He took an unhurried step back, then another, and turned on his heel without another word.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow felt louder than a slam.

Noel heard voices in the hallway almost immediately.

Benjamin’s voice, warm and concerned. “Gabe? Everything okay? I was just coming to wake him—”

“Don’t.” Gabriel’s tone was low. “He’s fine. Just… give him a minute. He’s getting ready.”

There was a short pause. Benjamin started to protest, but Gabriel cut him off again.

“Trust me, Ben. Leave it.”

Noel heard footsteps moving away down the hall.

He sat frozen for three full seconds, then scrambled out of bed so fast he nearly tripped. He grabbed the nearest pair of jeans, didn’t even bother with a shirt, and bolted for the bathroom across the hall. The door locked behind him with a sharp snap. He leaned against it, breathing hard, face burning, and pressed the heel of his hand against his eyes.

He tried to remember how to breathe again.