Page 50 of Unfinished Noise

He felt grounded, like his feet were planted deeper into the carpet. His hands stopped fidgeting. Even his pulse, though fast, felt steadier and less frantic. The room around them seemed to warm a little, the edges of everything blurring in that soft way they did when Spencer was close enough to touch.

When Spencer pulled back, Jamie’s lungs filled easier, like he’d been holding his breath without realizing it. His chest felt warm, almost heavy in a comforting way, like someone had draped a blanket over him from the inside. He wasn’t just wanted—he could feel it in the way his body reacted, in the way his nerves quieted, in the way his entire self leaned toward Spencer even after the kiss ended.

The certainty that he had been chosen, protected, and was safe finally landed in his heart.

And as Spencer went back to gathering the last pieces of his outfit, Jamie held the matching clothes against his chest, feeling the weight of them, the meaning of them, the loving message Spencer didn’t say out loud: You belong with me tonight.

A lingering warmth from the meal he’d had with Spencer settled comfortably in Jamie’s stomach. They had been apart, and now everything felt right again. Spencer looked at him with that soft smile Jamie loved so much.

“Hey, do you want to squeeze into my shower with me?”

Jamie nodded right away. “Yeah. Sounds perfect.”

They stripped down, clothes landing in a pile on the floor. Spencer turned on the water and pulled Jamie under the spray once it got warm. He grabbed the shower gel first and washed Jamie’s back. His hands moved slow and steady over Jamie’s shoulders and down his sides. Jamie leaned into the touch, letting out a little sigh. Then he took the gel and ran his hands over Spencer’s chest, feeling the familiar muscles under his fingers. They kept trading touches, soaping each other up without rushing.

Spencer pulled Jamie closer under the water, their bodies pressing together. He reached down and wrapped his hand around both their cocks, holding them side by side. “Look at us,” he said with a grin, stroking them together. “Feels so good like this, baby.”

Jamie laughed, his hands resting on Spencer’s hips. “You’re such a tease, Daddy Spencer. Always know how to make me feel good.”

“Only because you make me crazy,” Spencer replied, his voice low and warm. He rubbed their cocks together in his fist, thumb brushing over the heads. “Love having you back with me. That day apart sucked.”

“Yeah, it did,” Jamie agreed, tilting his head up for a quick kiss. “But we’re here now. And you’re gonna sing your heart out later. My rockstar Daddy Spencer.”

Spencer chuckled, stroking faster. “My sweet boy. Can’t wait to get back to you after the show. Gonna hold you all night.”

Jamie moaned as the pleasure built, his cock sliding against Spencer’s in that tight grip. “Keep talking like that and I’m not gonna last.”

“Good,” Spencer whispered, kissing Jamie’s neck. “Come with me, baby. Love you so much.”

They both came at the same time, their cum mixing under the water as Spencer kept stroking them through it. Jamie leaned against Spencer’s chest, catching his breath while Spencer held him steady. “That was hot,” Jamie mumbled with a smile.

Spencer kissed the top of his head. “You’re hot.”

Jamie didn’t rush getting dressed. He wanted to savor it—the feel of the fabric, the weight of the boots, the way the colors matched Spencer’s exactly. It felt like stepping into a place Spencer had carved out for him.

He slipped the shirt over his head, smoothing the hem with his palms. Although heavier than his usual clothes, the material was soft, and it settled against him like it belonged there. The pants fit perfectly too, hugging just right without feeling tight. Spencer knew his sizes better than he did sometimes.

When Jamie stepped into the boots, he paused, staring down at them. They were black—Spencer’s kind of black—the kind that looked like they belonged on a stage under bright, strobing lights. Not cowboy boots, not casual ones. These were the rockstar kind, heavy with thick laces that climbed up the front like military boots, solid and purposeful.

The weight of them grounded him instantly. The leather hugged his ankles, and a slow warmth spread through his chest, rising as if someone had lit a small flame behind his ribs. His breath caught for a moment, not from nerves but from the overwhelming realization that Spencer had chosen these boots for him. Chosen something that matched his own.

The warmth didn’t sit in his chest as an idea, but it moved through him, settling in his arms, his stomach, even the tips of his fingers. A soft heaviness, comforting and sure, like the boots were anchoring him to the floor and to Spencer at the same time.

He straightened, the laces tight, the boots solid beneath him, and the room seemed a little steadier because of it.

He looked up—and Spencer had stopped getting ready entirely. He stood a few feet away, one ring halfway on his finger, staring at Jamie as if he’d forgotten what he was doing. His expression softened first, then deepened into something warm and proud and a little stunned.

Jamie felt his face heat. “Do I look okay?” he asked, even though he already knew Spencer’s answer.

Spencer didn’t answer right away. He walked toward him slowly, eyes never leaving him. When he reached Jamie, he lifted a hand and brushed his thumb along Jamie’s cheek, gentle and deliberate.

“You look perfect,” Spencer said, voice low in that way that always made Jamie’s stomach flip. “Better than I pictured. Better than I had hoped.”

Jamie swallowed, the warmth in his chest spreading all the way to his fingertips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he let them rest at his sides, trying not to grin too hard.

Spencer stepped back just enough to look him over again, eyes tracing the outfit like he was memorizing it. “I like seeing you in something that matches me,” he said. “Feels right.”

Jamie’s breath caught. “It does,” he whispered. “It really does.”