Chapter 39: Yours Even in Ruin
Chapter 39: Yours Even in Ruin
POV: Elias
Elias was staring at the same financial report for the third time in an hour, but the numbers blurred and twisted, meaningless. That wasn’t like him. He could usually pull focus through a nuclear war, much less a market dip. But this? This wasn’t a report problem.
It was a Noah problem.
A his Noah is cracking and there’s nothing he can do about it problem.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. The penthouse was too quiet, the city humming in the distance like static under his skin. Noah had gone to his studio earlier that morning and hadn’t returned. Not even a text.
It was the silences that haunted Elias. The quiet between their conversations. The way Noah looked at him lately—tender, but distant, like he was rehearsing a goodbye in his head.
No. Fuck no.
He stood abruptly and strode to the elevator, punching in the code that took him to Noah’s private studio three floors down.
The lights were off. Canvas leaned against walls like forgotten ghosts. Elias stepped inside, the scent of turpentine and sandalwood thick in the air.
And then—there he was. Curled on the leather chaise, sketchpad in hand, but not drawing. Just... staring. Eyes blank. Still in yesterday’s hoodie.
“Noah,” Elias said gently.
No response.
He crossed the room slowly, his voice lower. “Baby. Look at me.”
Noah blinked and finally lifted his gaze, and the pain there sliced through Elias like glass.
“You didn’t tell me.”
Noah’s voice was hoarse. “Tell you what?”
Elias dropped to his knees in front of him. “About your father. The press. The recording.”
Noah’s jaw tightened. “What’s the point? You’d just try to fix it.”
“I’m not trying to fix you, Noah. I’m trying to protect you.”
“You can’t. Not from this.”
Elias reached up, cupping his face. “Try me."
The news had hit like a grenade. An anonymous source had leaked audio of Noah’s father berating him in a closed-door board meeting. His words were cruel. Homophobic. The media had a field day. Overnight, Noah went from rising philanthropist to disgraced heir.
But the worst part wasn’t the headlines.
It was that Noah had endured it alone.
That night, Elias lay beside him in their bed, arms wrapped around him as if he could hold the world at bay. But Noah remained tense, spine rigid.
“You’ve barely slept in days,” Elias murmured. “Talk to me.”
Noah turned slowly. “You ever feel like you’re just... waiting to be too much?”
Elias frowned. “What do you mean?”
“My father. The press. Investors. Your image. I know what people say when the doors close. That I’m a weakness you’re indulging. That you’ll grow tired of shielding me.”
“Bullshit,” Elias said flatly.
Noah’s throat bobbed. “What if they’re right?”
“They’re not. I’d burn the company down before I gave them an inch of you.”
The silence that followed was electric. And then, softly
“Then show me. Ruin me, if you have to. Just... don’t leave me.”
Elias kissed him.
Not gently. Not sweetly.
Like he was sealing a contract in blood.
They ended up on the rooftop. The wind sharp, sky bruised with approaching dawn. Noah leaned on the railing, city lights casting silver onto his skin. He looked fragile. Breakable.
But when Elias touched his back, Noah leaned in—like he needed to be held or he’d shatter.
Elias turned him, pressing their foreheads together.
“You’re not fragile,” he whispered. “You’re fire. And I’ve always burned for you.”
Noah pulled him close. “Then take it. All of it. The pain. The shame. Make it yours.”
And Elias did.
Clothes were shed in silence. Elias pushed him down onto the rooftop lounge chair, lips feverish against collarbones, chest, hips.
Noah gasped when Elias gripped his thighs, spreading him wide beneath the early morning sky.
“I’m yours,” Noah whispered. “Even in ruin.”
Elias sank into him with one sharp thrust.
The air split.
Noah arched, fingers digging into Elias’s back. “Yes—yes, Elias—”
The rhythm wasn’t gentle. It was claiming. Raw. Each thrust a vow: I won’t let them have you. I won’t let them define you.
When Noah shattered with a hoarse cry, Elias followed seconds after, burying his face in his neck as they trembled together in the cold.
Later, wrapped in a blanket and curled into Elias’s chest, Noah said softly, “What if the board tries to force you out for this?”
“Let them try,” Elias said, brushing a kiss to his damp temple. “They’ll learn the hard way that you’re not my weakness.”
Noah looked up. “Then what am I?”
Elias smiled. “You’re the reason I wake up breathing.”
Noah closed his eyes, exhaling.
“Then I guess I’m not done fi
ghting yet.”
Back inside the penthouse, Noah fell asleep for the first time in days.
And Elias, watching him, realized this wasn’t just about reputation anymore. This was war. And he would scorch the world if it meant keeping Noah safe.