The kitchen smelled like butter and coffee. Noah was at the stove, flipping crêpes with more focus than strictly necessary, while Atlas leaned against the counter watching him with that lazy morning smile that made Noah's stomach do inconvenient things.
The door swung open.
"Morning!" Alice's voice was bright, followed immediately by Sienna's warm greeting.
"Hey, morning—" Atlas straightened, moving toward them for hugs. Noah turned from the stove, wiping his hands on a towel.
Alice pulled him into a hug first, smelling like airport and expensive perfume. Then Sienna, squeezing tight before letting go.
"We're making breakfast today," Atlas said, gesturing at the spread they'd started—pancakes stacked on a plate, fruit cut into precise pieces that Noah had definitely spent too long arranging.
Alice tilted her head, studying them both. Her eyes moved from Atlas to Noah and back again, a knowing glint in her expression. "You two look... different today."
"Different how?" Noah reached for the coffeepot, not meeting her gaze.
Sienna's voice came quieter, almost under her breath but not quite: "That's the glow of people who finally fucked after way too long."
Atlas burst out laughing—full, unrestrained, the sound bouncing off the kitchen walls.
Noah's hand froze on the coffeepot handle. Oh my god. He kept his eyes on the crêpes, flipping one with aggressive concentration.
Then Atlas's hand touched his lower back—just a brief press of warmth—and Noah turned his head to give him a look. A stop it look. He nudged Atlas's ribs with his elbow, trying not to smile.
Atlas caught his eye and laughed harder.
Which made Alice crack. Then Sienna. Both of them dissolving into giggles that turned into full laughter, and Atlas was still going, his hand sliding to Noah's hip as he leaned against the counter for support.
"I'm not—" Atlas gasped between laughs, pulling Noah into a sideways hug. "I'm not laughing—"
"You literally are," Noah muttered, but his mouth was twitching. He ducked out of Atlas's arms. "I have breakfast to finish."
He turned back to the stove, hyperaware of everything—Alice and Sienna's lingering grins, the warmth still ghosting across his back where Atlas had touched him, the stupid flutter in his chest.
Atlas moved past him to grab plates from the cabinet, and his shoulder brushed Noah's. On purpose. Definitely on purpose.
Noah cut his eyes at him. Atlas's mouth curved, unrepentant.
Asshole.
But Noah was smiling too, despite himself, as he plated the last crêpe and carried everything to the table. He'd made too much—crêpes with Nutella and strawberries, pancakes with maple syrup, scrambled eggs with herbs, bacon that was maybe slightly burnt on the edges but still good.
When he glanced at Alice and Sienna, his smile felt easier. Natural. When he turned to Atlas—
Atlas was already watching him.
Noah narrowed his eyes. Atlas's grin widened.
They sat. Atlas's hand found Noah's thigh under the table immediately, resting there like it belonged. Warm through the fabric of his sweatpants.
"Okay, so—" Alice speared a strawberry. "France was gorgeous but so cold. I forgot how brutal February in Paris is."
"Should've gone south," Sienna said. "We did two days in Nice and I actually saw the sun."
"You went to Nice?" Atlas leaned forward, interested. "How was it?"
As they talked—Alice describing some museum in the Marais, Sienna laughing about a disastrous attempt at ordering in French—Atlas's thumb traced small circles on Noah's knee. Not obvious. Just... there.
Noah picked up his coffee, listening to Sienna's story about a stolen crepe from a street vendor, and when he set the cup down, Atlas's hand had moved slightly higher.
Noah shifted his leg. Atlas's fingers stilled, then resumed the slow back-and-forth motion.
Really?
He glanced over. Atlas was nodding at Alice's story, completely focused on the conversation. Except his hand was still moving.
Noah bit the inside of his cheek and reached for more coffee.
"—and then the taxi driver tried to charge us triple," Alice was saying. "Triple! I almost—"
"Noah."
He looked up. Sienna was watching him, expression thoughtful. "I'm around today if you want to talk. About the thing."
Atlas's hand stopped moving. "Wait, what thing?"
Noah felt his face warm. "I, uh. Mentioned it yesterday. But we got... distracted."
Atlas's face went slightly pink. He cleared his throat. "Right. Well—let's talk about it now."
"At the breakfast table?" Noah raised an eyebrow.
"I'm curious now," Alice said immediately.
Noah hesitated, then— fuck it. "Okay. So." He set down his fork. "I've been working on something. A social app idea."
He explained it—the concept, the features, why it was different from what already existed. How it would actually connect people instead of just... throwing content at them. Algorithms that learned what you actually wanted to see instead of what kept you doomscrolling.
Atlas was watching him. Watching him, head tilted, eyes sharp with focus.
Noah's pulse kicked up. "Hang on—let me grab my laptop."
He came back with it, fingers already pulling up the files he'd been working on for weeks. Mockups of the interface, rough wireframes, pages and pages of notes about functionality.
"So this is the home feed," he said, turning the screen so everyone could see. "But it's not—look, it's not just algorithmic. There's actual curation involved. User control. You're not trapped in a bubble unless you want to be."
"Show me the profile system," Sienna said, leaning closer.
Noah clicked through, explaining the privacy tiers, the way content could be shared in circles instead of broadcast to everyone or hidden completely. He pulled up his budget projections, the timeline he'd mapped out, the list of developers he'd been researching.
Questions came rapid-fire. Alice wanted to know about monetization—how would it make money without selling user data? Sienna asked about accessibility features. Atlas kept pushing on the technical side, asking about server costs and scalability and security.
Noah answered all of it. He'd thought about this. Planned for it.
More coffee appeared. Then more. The breakfast plates got pushed aside to make room for laptops and notebooks. Noah pulled up his reports—market analysis, competitor breakdowns, projected user growth.
Hours passed. ... Time slipped away.
Atlas hadn't taken his eyes off him. Noah felt it like a physical thing—the weight of that attention, the sharpness of it. Atlas asked the hardest questions, the ones that made Noah think, and when Noah answered them, Atlas's expression changed. Softened. His mouth curved just slightly, pride clear in the set of his shoulders.
"I want in," Alice said suddenly. "First investor. And I know people—good people—who'd be interested in this."
Atlas turned to her. "First investor is me."
Noah blinked. "Wait, seriously?" He stared between them. "You guys actually—"
"I like it," Alice said firmly. Then she glanced at Atlas. "I like the idea."
Atlas leaned closer to Noah, voice dropping. "I like you."
Noah's breath caught. He met Atlas's eyes—held them—and saw everything there. The pride, the affection, the way Atlas was watching him like he'd just discovered something new and fascinating.
Oh.
He smiled, warmth spreading through his chest, then turned quickly back to Sienna. "Would you want to work on this? The design, I mean. I need someone who actually knows what they're doing."
Sienna's eyebrows went up. "I've never been offered a job at a breakfast table before."
"First time for everything?"
She laughed. "I love the concept. Yeah. I'm in."
Noah's grin was involuntary, too wide, but he didn't care. "Okay, so—team structure. I'm thinking we start with maybe five people. Front-end, back-end, someone dedicated to UX, and—"
He kept talking, pulling up his lists, and Sienna was nodding along, asking questions about timeline and workflow and whether he'd considered contractors versus full-time hires.
Atlas just watched him.
Noah could feel it—the warmth of that gaze, the way Atlas's attention never wavered. Like Noah was the only thing in the room worth looking at.
Alice caught it too. She glanced at Atlas and smiled, soft and knowing.
After another twenty minutes, Sienna pushed back from the table. "We should move this to the living room. More space."
"Yeah." Noah grabbed his laptop, his notes, his half-empty coffee cup. "Atlas, Alice—we'll catch up later?"
"Go," Alice said, waving them off. "Make your empire."
Sienna grinned at Noah, and they headed out, already talking about color schemes and user interface flow.
The kitchen door swung shut behind them.
---
Alice and Atlas looked at each other, both caught off-guard.
Alice's mouth quirked. "I'm not even gonna ask how things are going with Noah. Pretty obvious."
Atlas's smile came slow, warm. He rubbed the back of his neck, not bothering to hide it.
"So." Alice shifted in her chair, crossing her legs. "What's happening with Thomas and Richard?"
The warmth drained from Atlas's face. He reached for his coffee—cold now, but he drank it anyway. "Richard won't meet with me. Not as his son, at least. Only sees me in business meetings. Like I'm just another employee."
"That's fucked up."
"Yeah." Atlas set the cup down harder than necessary. "It is."
Alice watched him, expression serious now. "We know he's planning something. But this quiet? It's not normal for him."
"The investigators haven't found anything concrete." Atlas's jaw tightened. "Which means he's being careful."
"And Thomas?"
Atlas exhaled slowly. "Helen wants to send Noah abroad. Get him out of the country, away from Thomas's reach." He paused, fingers drumming against the table. "Thomas could—there's a lot he could do. Legal threats, custody battles, make Noah's life hell."
"Jesus." Alice's voice dropped. "The fact that he'd do that to his own kid—what the fuck can we expect from someone like that?"
"Exactly."
Neither spoke. Atlas stared at the cold coffee in his cup.
"What do you think?" Alice asked quietly. "About Noah leaving?"
Atlas's throat worked. "It makes sense. Logically. Get him somewhere safe, somewhere Thomas can't—" He stopped. His fingers pressed against his temples. "But I don't want him to go." The words came out rough. "That's selfish as fuck, but I don't. I'd—I'd go with him if I had to."
Alice went very still. She set down her wine glass with care.
"Atlas." Her voice was gentle, but firm. "You've been working your ass off since you were a kid. Dealing with Richard's shit, building everything from nothing, putting up with all of it—" She leaned forward. "Was it all just so you could walk away?"
Atlas held her gaze.
"I don't know," he said finally. "Noah and I haven't talked about it."
"From what I saw?" Alice gestured toward the living room where Noah's voice still carried faintly. "He doesn't have plans to relocate. Not anywhere I could see."
"We need to talk about it." Atlas rubbed his face. "Actually talk."
"Yeah. You do." Alice picked up her wine again. "Soon. You need to figure this out before—before it gets worse."
Atlas nodded, weight settling heavy in his chest.
Then he pushed back from the table. "Let's go hang with them."
Alice's smile returned, softer now. "I'll grab more wine."
---
The living room had transformed into a workspace. Noah and Sienna sat side by side at the large table, laptops open, papers scattered between them. Their heads were bent close, voices overlapping as they talked through mockups and color palettes.
"—but if we go with that interface, the accessibility drops—"
"Right, so what if we—"
"Yeah, that could work, hang on—"
Atlas and Alice settled onto the couch. Atlas opened his own laptop, pretending to focus on emails while watching Noah gesture animatedly at something on the screen. Alice poured wine, not bothering to hide her amused smile.
Sunny padded over and flopped at Atlas's feet. Luna curled up between him and Alice, purring.
Time passed in a comfortable blur. Sienna and Noah's conversation rose and fell—bursts of excitement, quiet moments of concentration, occasional laughter. Alice answered work emails. Atlas gave up pretending to work and just watched Noah instead, the way his face lit up when he explained something, the focused furrow between his brows.
More hours dissolved.
Finally, Sienna pushed back from the table, stretching her arms overhead. "Okay. I think we've got a solid foundation."
Noah nodded, saving files with quick clicks. "Yeah. This is—this is really good."
They turned around.
Atlas and Alice were both watching them from the couch, wine glasses in hand, both soft and knowing.
Noah and Sienna looked at each other. Grinned.
Atlas was already moving. He crossed the room in three strides and pulled Noah against him, fingers sliding into his hair as he kissed the top of his head. Noah made a quiet sound—surprise or pleasure or both—and leaned into him.
Sienna dropped onto the couch next to Alice, letting her head fall to Alice's shoulder with an exhausted sigh.
Alice wrapped an arm around her waist, warm and easy. "So." She looked at Atlas. "What do we want for dinner?"
"The people who worked all Saturday should decide," Atlas said, still holding Noah close, chin resting on his head.
Noah and Sienna exchanged a glance.
"Seafood," they said in unison, then laughed.
"Seafood it is." Alice squeezed Sienna's waist.
They started moving toward the kitchen—Sienna describing some restaurant she'd been to in Nice, Alice arguing that they could make something better here.
Atlas caught Noah's hand, tugging him back.
Noah looked up at him, questioning.
"Come here," Atlas murmured. "Just for a minute."
He led Noah down the hall toward the bedroom, fingers laced through his. Behind them, Sienna's voice carried: "Are they seriously—"
"Let them," Alice said, laughing. "We'll start without them."
---
Atlas closed the bedroom door.
The noise from the kitchen faded—muffled voices, the sound of cabinets opening. Here, it was just them. Late afternoon light slanted through the windows.
Before Noah could ask what was wrong, Atlas backed him against the door and kissed him—hard, hungry, like he'd been holding back all day. His hands were everywhere—Noah's hips, his ass, tangling in his hair.
Noah kissed back just as fiercely, fingers digging into Atlas's shoulders.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard, bodies pressed together from chest to thigh. Atlas didn't pull away—stayed right there, close enough that Noah could feel every exhale against his lips.
"You didn't pay attention to me for hours," Atlas murmured.
Noah's mouth curved. His hand slid down to Atlas's hip, squeezed. "I'll make you forget about those hours. Soon."
Atlas's breath hitched. Then his expression shifted—went soft and open.
"I love you," Atlas said. Just like that. No preamble.
"I love you more," Noah whispered back.
He kissed Atlas again, slower this time. Deeper.
This is real. He's here. He's mine.
They stayed like that after, foreheads pressed together, just breathing.
Noah's fingers traced idle patterns on Atlas's lower back. Atlas's thumb brushed along his jaw.
"We should—" Noah cleared his throat. "We should help with dinner."
"Yeah." Atlas didn't move.
Noah smiled against his mouth. "Come on."
He laced their fingers together and tugged Atlas toward the door.
---
The hallway was empty, but voices carried from the kitchen—Alice laughing at something Sienna said. As they walked, Noah glanced around. Sunny was curled up on the couch. Luna sat on the windowsill, tail flicking.
"I didn't really spend time with them today," Noah said quietly.
Atlas squeezed his hand. "They've been running around all day. Look at them—they're happy."
Noah glanced at Sunny's sprawled form, completely relaxed. Luna's half-closed eyes tracking something outside.
In the kitchen, Sienna had ingredients spread across the counter. Alice was chopping garlic, the sharp smell filling the air.
"Oh, look who's back," Sienna said, not bothering to hide her grin.
Noah felt his face warm but didn't let go of Atlas's hand. "What can we do?"
They moved around each other easily—Noah handling the shrimp while Atlas prepped vegetables, Sienna managing three pans at once, Alice opening wine and setting the table between tasks. Music played from someone's phone. Luna wandered in, sniffing hopefully at the seafood smell.
At dinner, conversation turned back to the project. Noah explained the next steps, what needed to happen in the first month.
"I can set up meetings Monday," Alice said, twirling pasta on her fork. "I know at least three people who'd want in on this."
"Same," Atlas added. "There's a few investors who've been asking what I'm working on next."
Noah looked between them, warmth and overwhelm building in his chest . "You guys are really—you're serious about this."
"Of course we are," Sienna said. "It's a good idea. More than good."
Alice raised her glass. "To Noah's empire."
"It's not—" Noah started, but Atlas clinked his glass against Alice's.
"To Noah's empire," he repeated, looking right at Noah.
Noah's throat felt tight. He lifted his own glass.
After dinner, they cleaned up together—loading the dishwasher, wiping down counters, putting away leftovers. Atlas kept finding excuses to touch Noah—a hand on his lower back as he passed, fingers brushing when they both reached for the same dish.
When the kitchen was finally clean, Noah caught Atlas's eye. "We'll be in our room."
Alice waved them off without looking up from her phone. "Night."
"Use protection," Sienna called after them.
Noah flipped her off over his shoulder. Her laughter followed them down the hall.
---
Noah grabbed a blanket from the bed and switched off the overhead light. The room softened into shadow, lit only by the garden lamps outside—warm yellow spilling through the windows. He moved to the armchair by the window, settling in.
Atlas brought Luna and Sunny in, both cats padding quietly across the floor. Luna immediately curled up on the armrest. Sunny sprawled at their feet. Atlas climbed onto the chair with Noah, fitting himself into the space beside him.
Noah leaned into his shoulder, pulling the blanket over them both. The fabric smelled like lavender detergent.
"Is there something you want to talk about?" Noah asked quietly.
Atlas glanced down at him. Pressed a kiss to his forehead, gentle. "If you don't want to talk, we don't have to."
"I want to."
Atlas took a breath—slow, measured. His fingers traced along Noah's arm. "Your mom wants to send you to Europe. What do you think about that?"
Noah tilted his head back to meet Atlas's eyes. "I'm not going."
Relief flooded Atlas's face—visible, immediate. His shoulders dropped. "Even if things get... difficult?"
Noah thought about his father. The weight of that name, that legacy. "I'll stop using his last name. Use my mom's instead." His voice was steady. "That solves the problem."
Atlas blinked. "You'd—"
"It's the name he cares about. The reputation." Noah's jaw set. "Not me."
Atlas kissed his forehead again, lingering this time.
"I love this project," Noah said, quieter now but certain. "I want to make it work. I'm going to work my ass off for it."
A small smile tugged at Atlas's mouth. "I believe you."
"I want to live a life I choose. That I actually want." Noah's fingers curled into Atlas's sweatshirt. "Not the roles my father picked out for me."
"That's not too ambitious?"
Noah looked up at him, his face softening. "Life only feels real when you choose your own meaning."
Atlas studied his face. "Have you found yours? Your meanings?"
"You're one of them."
Atlas flushed—actual color rising in his cheeks. He smiled, helpless, and Noah kissed him lightly before tucking his face against Atlas's neck.
Atlas's heartbeat picked up. Noah could feel it.
Luna's purring. Sunny's occasional shift of position. The distant sound of Alice and Sienna's voices from somewhere else in the house.
"What are your plans?" Noah asked eventually. "For the future?"
"Stop Richard and Thomas from interfering in our lives."
"Besides that."
"The other stuff is easy."
Noah pulled back enough to see his face. "You don't have other plans?"
Atlas turned toward him. Their eyes met, faces close. "Build a life together. If you want that."
Noah's eyes went bright. He kissed the corner of Atlas's mouth, barely more than a brush. "I want things with you."
They stared at each other, unblinking. Understanding. Promise.
Noah rested his head back on Atlas's shoulder.
Then his eyes started burning.
No. Not now.
But his throat was tight and his vision blurred and he couldn't—he couldn't stop it.
Atlas felt it. The wetness soaking through his sweatshirt. His arms tightened immediately, pulling Noah closer.
"I don't want to lose you," Noah whispered, voice cracking.
"Me neither."
Noah's breath hitched. "When I was there—at my dad's—I thought about you all the time. Sometimes you were hope and sometimes I was terrified you'd moved on, forgotten about me, found someone else—"
Atlas pulled back, wiping at his own eyes with the heel of his hand. He cupped Noah's face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. "You were on my mind every single moment." His voice broke. "When I couldn't find you, I was losing my fucking mind."
Tears tracked down both their faces—silent, steady.
Noah kissed him. Soft and slow and trembling. Atlas kissed back the same way.
Noah pressed his forehead to Atlas's chest. His fingers twisted in the fabric. "If Richard pressures you—we could keep this secret. From everyone."
Atlas went rigid.
Silence.
Then: "You want us to be a secret?"
Shit. Noah felt the tension in Atlas's body, heard it in his voice. "No—I just don't want him to hurt you—"
Noah met his eyes. "If something happens to you—"
He couldn't finish. The words stuck. Tears spilled over again.
Atlas pulled him in, kissed his cheek, then pressed their faces together—cheek to cheek, close and warm.
"Don't think about him," Atlas murmured.
A pause. Then, sudden and fierce: "I don't want to hide you."
Noah went still.
"I don't either," he said.
He tilted his head back. Atlas was already looking at him.
"I love you," Atlas said.
"I love you."
They stared at each other—eyes red and puffy and smiling anyway.
"Your eyes are beautiful," Atlas said softly.
"Thanks."
The room fell quiet except for Sunny's gentle snoring. Luna's purr. The sound of their breathing syncing up.
They shifted until their heads shared the same pillow—faces inches apart, studying each other in the dim light. Atlas's fingers traced Noah's cheekbone. Noah's hand rested on Atlas's jaw.
"When I first saw you in high school," Atlas said quietly, "it was your eyes and your smile that got me."
Noah's eyebrows lifted. "Really?"
"You were in the conference hall entrance. Explaining something to someone. Then you smiled."
Noah smiled now—automatic, soft.
"I saw you my first week," he said. "In the basketball gym. I was sitting with a friend, watching a game."
Atlas's gaze sharpened. Their noses were almost touching. "What made you notice me?"
"I don't know." Noah's voice was barely above a whisper. "But I came to your games after that. All season. Then you graduated."
Atlas kissed him—slow and deep, arms tightening around him like he could hold this moment in place.
They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, until their breathing evened out and their eyes grew heavy.
Sometime later, they fell asleep in the chair—tangled together under the blanket, Luna curled against Noah's hip, Sunny's paw draped over Atlas's ankle.
The garden lights glowed soft through the window.
Outside, the night settled in quiet and still.