HOSPITAL
A nurse approached. "We're moving him to a room now. Would you like to see him?"
Atlas nodded. Couldn't speak.
---
The hallway stretched. White walls. Antiseptic smell. His footsteps echoed.
Everything felt distant. Muffled.
The door opened.
Noah lay in the bed. Eyes closed. An IV in his arm. Monitor beeping steady.
One beep. Two beeps. Three.
Proof of life.
Atlas froze in the doorway.
His chest wouldn't expand. Wouldn't let air in.
"He'll wake soon," the nurse said softly.
Atlas nodded again. Still didn't move.
The nurse left.
Silence except for the monitor.
Atlas counted. Four beeps. Five. Six.
He took one step forward. Then another.
Sat in the chair beside the bed.
Noah's face had a scrape across his cheekbone. Red. Raw.
Atlas's hands clasped together. Tight. If he loosened them he'd—
He didn't know what he'd do.
---
AN HOUR LATER
The door opened.
Daniel. Atlas's assistant. Arms full of clean clothes.
"Thought you might need these."
Atlas stood. Took them. "Thanks."
Daniel glanced at Noah. Back to Atlas. "The footage from the track—dashcam and drone. I sent it to your phone."
Atlas's jaw tightened.
"I'll be outside if you need anything."
Daniel left.
Atlas went to the bathroom. Changed. Splashed cold water on his face.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Like he could wake up from this.
His reflection stared back. Eyes red. Face pale.
He gripped the sink. Knuckles white.
Breathe. Just breathe.
---
TWO HOURS LATER
Atlas returned to Noah's room.
Noah was awake.
Their eyes met.
Noah smiled.
Atlas just stood there. Staring.
Everything he'd been holding back crashed against his chest. Pressing. Suffocating.
Stay calm. Control it.
Noah's smile faded. "Are you okay?"
Atlas moved. Three steps. Then pulled Noah into his arms.
Held tight.
Noah tensed—surprised—then relaxed. His arms came around Atlas slowly.
Atlas felt how rigid his own body was. Every muscle locked.
He tried to breathe through it.
"Are you okay?" Atlas asked. Voice rough. Muffled against Noah's shoulder.
"I'm fine."
They stayed like that. Monitor beeping in the background.
Atlas's eyes burned. He blinked hard.
Don't. Not here.
Finally he pulled back. Sat on the edge of the bed. Held Noah's hand.
Noah squeezed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't." Atlas's voice flat. "You're okay. That's what matters."
More silence.
Noah tried to talk. Ask questions. Atlas gave short answers. One word. Two words.
He couldn't do more than that right now.
A nurse came in. Checked vitals. Gave Noah a painkiller.
"Plenty of fluids," she said. "If the headache spikes, press the call button."
Noah nodded.
Minutes passed. Noah's eyes grew heavy. He fought it.
Lost.
His breathing evened out.
Atlas sat back in the chair. Watched him.
An hour later he went outside. Smoked. Came back.
Sat down again.
Watched Noah breathe.
Eventually his own eyes closed.
---
SUNDAY MORNING
Sunlight poured through the window. Harsh. Direct.
Noah woke. Blinked against the brightness.
His phone sat on the bedside table. He reached for it.
Messages. Missed calls. He scrolled. Didn't respond to any of them.
The door opened. A nurse.
Atlas jerked awake in the chair. Sat up straight.
"Just need to draw some blood," the nurse said cheerfully.
She worked quickly. Then turned to Atlas.
"More tests," she explained. "If everything looks good, he can leave today."
She gave a small reassuring smile before leaving the room.
Atlas watched her go, then looked back at Noah.
"Right," he said quietly.
Atlas nodded.
The quiet shifts. Less shock, more weight.
"Does it hurt?" Atlas asked.
"I'm fine."
He shifted. Winced slightly. Caught himself.
Atlas saw it. Said nothing.
Daniel arrived with food. Left it on the table.
Noah picked at his breakfast. Ate maybe three bites.
Atlas didn't eat at all.
---
AFTERNOON
The doctor came.
"Results look good. You're free to go."
Noah changed. Moved slowly. Atlas helped with his jacket.
"Can you walk?" Atlas asked.
Noah laughed. "I'm fine. Seriously."
He stood. His hand went to his side for just a second. Then dropped.
Atlas noticed. Moved closer. Ready to catch him.
Noah waved him off. Smiled.
They left the room. Down the hallway. To the elevator.
Daniel waited outside with the car. Held the door open.
Noah and Atlas climbed in.
The door closed.
Noah reached for Atlas's hand. Atlas pulled him closer. Against his side.
Neither spoke.
Daniel drove.
---
Penthouse
They walked in. Same silence.
Atlas went straight to his bedroom. The bathroom door closed.
Water running.
Noah stood in the living room. Understood.
He needs space.
He went downstairs. To the guest bathroom.
Looked at himself in the mirror.
The scrape on his cheek. Bruising around his ribs. The way his hands still felt unsteady.
The past week flashed through his mind. Everything. The gala. The fight. Last night. The crash.
He couldn't name what he felt.
"I guess this is really living," he said to his reflection.
The mirror didn't argue.
Smiled slightly.
Showered. Put on blue sweatpants. White t-shirt.
He reached for his white hoodie. Sharp pain across his ribs.
He breathed through it. Pulled it on anyway.
Sprayed his new cologne. Grinned at that.
Atlas needs calming down.
He checked the time. Atlas had been in the bathroom for almost an hour.
Noah went to the living room instead. Stood by the windows. Watched the city.
His mind replayed the crash. The spin. The impact. The flames.
He felt nothing watching it in his head. Like a movie scene. Disconnected.
The bedroom door opened.
Atlas appeared. Dressed. Hair damp.
He looked better. More himself.
Noah turned. Walked over.
"Can I hug you?"
Atlas pulled him close. Carefully. "Since when do you ask permission?"
"I'm sorry." Noah meant it.
Atlas took a deep breath. Let it out slow.
Then he looked at Noah's face properly. Really looked.
The scrape. The red marks on his forehead where the helmet had rubbed.
"Was it worth it?" The words came tight. Controlled.
Noah smiled. Soft. Almost childlike.
His breath came slightly uneven.
Atlas stared. "How are you smiling? Like nothing happened?"
"It was my first crash."
And maybe my last, if he ever lets me drive again.
"The impact—" Atlas stopped. Tried again. His voice rose. "You're not thinking straight."
"The only damage is the car. I'll pay for it."
He shifted his weight. Another wince. Smaller this time.
"The car?" Atlas gripped Noah's arms. "That's what you're thinking about?"
"What else is there?"
"You—" Atlas breathed through his nose. His eyes cut sharp. "You could've died. Do you not get that?"
Noah opened his mouth.
Atlas kept going. "I watched the car flip. Then catch fire." His voice shook. "I've never—in my entire life—I've never felt what I felt yesterday."
He turned. Faced the window. Jaw tight.
Noah watched him. Still had that look. Mischievous. But relaxed.
Atlas turned back. "Why? After everything I said. All the warnings."
"It just happened."
"Are you addicted to adrenaline? What do you mean it just happened?"
Noah couldn't hold it. Started laughing.
Then sucked a breath as the movement tugged at his ribs.
"It was so much fun though."
Too fast. Like if he slowed down, the tremor in his voice might show.
"I'm not laughing. You notice that?"
Noah tried to stop. Failed. Walked to where Atlas stood by the window. Hugged him.
"You can't just be cute and make this go away," Atlas said.
"What I did was risky. I know. But nothing happened to me."
Noah looked up. Met his eyes. "I really am sorry." His most innocent expression.
"You manipulate me constantly."
He said it like a confession. Not an accusation.
His thumb traced the same line on Noah's wrist. Over and over.
Noah leaned closer, voice playful. "How?"
Atlas didn't move. "Like you're doing right now."
Noah smiled. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"
"No."
Noah kissed him anyway.
Atlas didn't kiss back.
"You're a different kind of psychopath," Atlas said.
Noah grinned. "So you're not going to kiss me?"
He doesn't plan to. He shouldn't.
But Noah's mouth is right there. Open. Stupidly alive.
Atlas broke. Kissed him hard. Desperately. Like he could erase the last twenty-four hours.
When they pulled apart, they held each other tight.
"This isn't over," Atlas said. "You know that, right?"
"Didn't we just close it?" Noah smiled.
"You're a nightmare."
---
LATER
The doorbell rang.
Daniel. With medication and ointments.
Atlas made Noah sit. Applied cream to the scrapes carefully.
"How are you going to explain this to your dad?"
Noah paused. "I'll say I fell climbing."
"You climb?"
"Yeah."
"Since when?"
"About four years."
"Surprising."
Atlas lifted Noah's shirt. Applied cream to the bruising on his ribs. His side.
"Thanks," Noah said. Smiled.
Atlas met his eyes. "You're so dangerous."
Noah winked.
They ordered food. Ate side by side. Bodies touching.
Flirting like the last day hadn't happened.
They pretend badly. It still helps.
---
EVENING
They sat on the couch. Atlas reading something on his tablet. Noah lay with his head in Atlas's lap. Scrolling through photos. Replying to messages.
Then he remembered. Work tomorrow.
His dad. His colleagues.
He wasn't scared. But he'd have to be careful.
His eyes grew heavy.
He fell asleep.
Atlas woke him gently. "Come on. Bed."
They went to the bedroom.
Noah curled against Atlas. Didn't think. Just slept.
Atlas watched him for a long time.
His mind went back. To the track. To not being able to get him out of the car.
His chest tightened.
He took a deep breath. Like he'd been underwater.
His hands still trembled slightly. He tucked the tremor under the blanket with the rest of it.
He watched Noah breathe. Counted each one.
One. Two. Three.
Still here.
Finally Atlas closed his eyes.
Let sleep take him.