Chapter 14 #2
Noah chuckled. “Okay, I lied. I had this idea we could make dinner together. Something simple and burn-repellent, like pasta.”
“You planned this?”
Noah rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe?”
Warmth flooded Eli’s chest. “I like that.”
Noah seemed relieved. “Good. Because I chopped things.”
Preparing dinner was an unexpectedly intimate ritual. They moved around the tiny kitchen as if they’d done it a hundred times, Noah stirring a sauce, Eli chopping garlic, elbows bumping, shoulders brushing, both trying and failing not to smile every time it happened.
“Watch your fingers,” Noah said when Eli’s chopping got enthusiastic.
“I’m a professional,” Eli insisted.
“You draw for a living. With hands you could lose. Don’t make me explain circulation to you.”
Eli snorted. “Okay, Mom—ow!” He’d nicked his thumb.
Noah immediately dropped his spoon. “Okay, give me that.”
“It’s fine,” Eli insisted. “Barely a scratch.”
“Blood is blood.” Noah dragged him to the sink with gentle but unyielding pressure. He rinsed the cut, grabbed a clean towel, and held Eli’s hand carefully, his thumb brushing Eli’s knuckle.
“You’re being ridiculous,” Eli murmured.
“You’re wounded.”
Eli rolled his eyes. “It’s a papercut with ambition.”
“I don’t take risks. And stop being cute while I’m nervous.”
Eli choked on a laugh. “While you’re what?”
Noah went back to stirring the sauce, and Eli took the spoon from Noah’s hand. setting it on the counter. “You don’t have to be nervous,” Eli murmured.
“I know.” His voice quietened. “That doesn’t change the fact that I am.”
Eli touched Noah’s sleeve. “I’m nervous too.” He met Noah’s gaze, and the air shifted.
Noah’s fingers tightened around his. “You okay?” he asked softly.
“Yeah. Are you?”
Noah nodded, but his breathing hitched. They stood there, too close, hands held, garlic burning faintly in the background, until the sauce made an alarming spitting noise.
Noah jumped. “The sauce!”
Dinner was saved. Barely.
They ate at Noah’s tiny table, their knees brushing, shoulders close, their conversation weaving between bites of perfectly-average pasta that Eli declared “amazing,” seemingly in an effort to make Noah smile.
It worked. Every time Eli laughed, Noah felt it like heat under his skin.
Every time Eli looked at him, Noah wanted to lean in.
And every time Eli brushed his hand against Noah’s, something inside him whispered.
This. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.
After dinner, Noah began stacking dishes, but Eli placed a gentle hand on his wrist.
“Leave them. Let’s stay in this moment a little longer.”
Noah didn’t need convincing.
They drifted into the living room, where a faint instrumental Christmas playlist was still playing through the speakers, a blend of soft piano and gentle strings.
Eli glanced around. “Your place is cozy.”
“It’s messy.”
“It’s you,” Eli said simply. “And if this is your version of messy, I’d hate for you to see my place.”
Noah’s heart did a very unhelpful flutter. ‘White Christmas’ crept into the room, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
“This is going to sound like a line, or like something you’d see in a cheesy holiday movie.”
Eli arched his eyebrows. “You have my attention. Try me.”
“Do you—” Noah swallowed. “Do you want to dance with me?”
Eli’s breathing caught, and he stepped closer.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I want that.”
Noah held out a hand, Eli took it, and then Noah pulled him in, carefully, gently, one hand sliding to Eli’s waist, the other resting against his shoulder blade.
Eli’s arms went around Noah’s neck, tentative at first, but with growing certainty.
They swayed together, unhurried, their bodies warm, their breaths syncing without effort.
Bing Crosby gave way to Justin Bieber’s ‘Mistletoe’ and Eli rested his cheek against Noah’s, their chests pressed together, close enough that Eli swore he could feel the steady thrum of Noah’s heartbeat, strong and achingly real.
“This feels…”
“Right?” Noah finished, his voice quavering.
“Yeah.” Eli smiled. “It feels right.”
Noah’s bearded chin brushed against Eli’s jaw. “I haven’t done this in so long.”
“Me neither.”
“Feels different with you.”
Eli closed his eyes. “Is that a good different?”
Noah nodded against him. “The best.”
They moved together in small circles, the room spinning around them. Snow tapped softly against the windows, and something warm, bright and terrifying began to bloom inside Eli.
Noah must have felt it, too, because he pulled back slightly to look at him. Their faces were close. Their noses brushed.
Noah’s voice was barely a whisper. “Eli—”
“Yeah?”
Noah’s fingers shook where they rested at Eli’s waist.
He could hide behind jokes. He could swallow the words and save himself the risk. But Eli was right there, cheeks flushed, eyes soft, trust written in every line of him.
And tonight wasn’t meant for fear.
“I think…” Noah started, then stopped, his breath trembling.
Eli lifted a hand to Noah’s cheek. “Whatever it is, you can say it.”
Noah leaned into the touch.
“I think I’m starting to fall for you.”
The silence that followed was small and fragile.
Eli stared at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Then he exhaled a shaky breath.
“I think I am too.” The words came out raw.
They leaned in at the same time, and the kiss that followed was deeper, not rushed or desperate, but weighted, meaningful, as though it was a seal on something that had shifted from possibility to reality.
They pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, their mingled breath warm between them.
“I’m scared.”
“Me too,” Noah said. “But not enough to stop.”
Eli smiled against his mouth. “Good.”
They kissed again, slow and lingering, the kind of kiss that didn’t lead anywhere except deeper into each other. When they finally broke apart, Noah rested his forehead against Eli’s cheek.
“You will stay tonight?” he murmured. There was a place inside him, the cautious part, the one still bracing for hurt, that whispered Eli should go home. That spending another night together, deepening what they’d already shared, was dangerous.
Noah ignored it.
Eli smiled. “Yeah, I’m staying.”
Noah exhaled, relief and happiness mixing in a warm rush.
“Good.” He clasped Eli’s hand in his, and led him toward the bedroom. Snow fell in drifting patterns outside the window, but inside, Noah’s world was warm.
Tonight, he was wanted.