Thirty-Five Noah
thirty-five
Noah
Noah cuddled Ramin for as long as he could, but they were both hot and sweaty, and Ramin was scratching at his peeling tattoo. While Noah liked the way Ramin smelled, he had a feeling they didn’t want the bedding to absorb it.
So he dragged Ramin to the shower, kissing him over and over as he waited for the water to warm up. Which took a weirdly long time.
The shower was great, though: big enough for four, with a frosted glass door, blue LED lighting, and a waterfall head that felt like heaven as Noah held Ramin beneath it.
He knew he’d just had his mouth around Ramin’s member, his lips on as many parts of Ramin’s skin as he could reach, but gently scrubbing him felt even more intimate.
Tender. With none of the breathtaking anticipation of sex, he had time to really admire Ramin’s skin.
The way he curved in spots. The soft bits, the firm bits, the ones with sexy tufts of hair.
Ramin’s hands were on Noah too, soaping him up. Noah was worried Ramin would feel weird about showering together, or get self-conscious again, but Ramin seemed quite content, lingering on Noah’s chest, massaging his armpits with soap, lathering up his heavy penis.
“Careful,” Noah said. “I don’t want to get worked up before dinner.”
Ramin whined. Truth be told, Noah wouldn’t have minded a shower handjob, but they had a reservation.
When they were both clean, Noah stepped out and grabbed a fluffy white towel to wrap Ramin in.
He knew he’d said it aloud, but he hoped Ramin could tell, from every one of Noah’s actions, just how beautiful he was. How precious. How irresistibly sexy.
“So,” Ramin said, once they were both dressed in fresh clothes. Ramin had pulled on a short-sleeved button-up—no more tank top, to Noah’s disappointment—and Noah himself had managed to scrub the ink off his arm, so he’d changed into a polo. “You said something about dinner?”
“I’ve already got us reservations.”
Ramin’s eyebrows shot up. His eyes sparkled. “Really?”
“Really-really.”
They didn’t have far to go—just the elevator to the rooftop.
The doors opened onto an open-air restaurant lit with fairy lights hung from the trellises.
The sun was nearly set, turning the sky above a rich velvety purple.
The wind off the darkening sea had turned cool and crisp.
The city was lighting up all around them, and in the distance, the Lanterna—Noah still couldn’t believe they’d climbed it—shone out to sea.
Ramin took it all in with wonder, the fairy lights reflecting in his eyes, and Noah’s heart squeezed so hard he nearly doubled over. How did he get to be so lucky, to be here, at this moment, in this place, with Ramin?
“Buonasera,” the host said. “Table for two?”
“We have a reservation,” Noah said. “Under Noah Bartlett?”
“Prego, Mr. Bartlett, this way.”
Their table was a small thing, covered by a white cloth, nestled up against the rail that hemmed in the rooftop. Noah held Ramin’s chair for him before taking his own seat.
“I picked the place, but you still have to pick the wine,” Noah said. “Nonna would never forgive me if I picked something bad.”
Ramin laughed. “That woman clearly loves you.”
“She loves you, too.”
Ramin blushed hard and hid behind the wine list.
He ended up ordering a rosé, but it was darker than any rosé Noah had ever seen before, almost ruby-colored. It smelled like candied cherries and children’s cough syrup, and it tasted tart and bright and perfect.
“Oh, wow,” Noah said. “This is good.”
He’d never tasted anything like it. It seemed like Ramin hadn’t, either, because he kept sniffing it, sipping it, taking photos of the bottle.
“Everything okay?” Maybe it wasn’t good. Maybe Ramin was thinking of sending it back. Maybe Noah’s palate was too pedestrian.
“Yeah, it’s amazing,” Ramin said. “I need to talk to David about it. He’s—”
“The sommelier. Farzan’s boyfriend. Right?”
“Right.” Ramin lifted his glass. Noah clinked. “To… What should we toast to?”
“To no more stairs,” Noah joked.
He’d climb a thousand more stairs as long as it was with Ramin. But he was just as glad to be off his feet.
Noah ordered the trofie al pesto Genovese—twists of fresh pasta in a verdant basil pesto, with tempura-fried green beans, served atop a disc of mashed potatoes.
Noah could’ve eaten two. Maybe even three.
The pesto was bright, fresh, and balanced, the green beans crisp and perfect.
The silky mashed potatoes melted on his tongue, buttery and rich.
And for dessert, Noah picked the pineapple carpaccio, thinly sliced rings of pineapple with an orange sorbet on top.
“Are you trying to tell me something about how I taste?” Ramin asked.
Noah nearly spat out his wine. “No! No, it just looked good. I didn’t mean—”
But Ramin was shaking from holding in laughter.
Noah pursed his lips. “That was mean.”
Besides, he was more worried about how he tasted. Though Ramin hadn’t complained, so…
They stayed well past sunset, admiring the silver sickle of the moon over the sea, the sounds of the city below them, the breeze in their hair. Noah lost track of time. He could’ve talked to Ramin for hours. For years. Forever.
But eventually the breeze turned cold, and the wine ran out, and the candle in the center of their table guttered.
They tumbled back into their bedroom, laughing. Noah caught Ramin against the bed, pulled him into a long, lingering kiss that tasted of cherry candy and citrus.
“Mm,” Noah hummed, as Ramin angled his head to dip his tongue deeper into Noah’s mouth. Noah wrapped his arms around Ramin and pulled him onto the bed, rolling onto their sides, as they kissed, and kissed, and kissed, until Noah was lost, until all he knew was Ramin, Ramin, Ramin.
He ground their hips together, savoring the freedom now that he was out of that singlet. It had been hot—sexy hot and also temperature hot—but now, his erection grew down the leg of his boxers.
“You’re already hard,” Ramin muttered, breath ghosting along Noah’s ear.
“Uh-huh.”
“You didn’t let me take care of you before.”
“You already did at the train station.”
“That was this morning,” Ramin said, trailing kisses along Noah’s jawline. “What about now?”
Yes yes yes.
This time, when Noah ground against him, Ramin pressed back, his own hot length singing against Noah’s through their shorts.
“Tell me what you want,” Ramin said.
I want you , Noah wanted to say. I want us. I want forever.
Just like when he’d stood atop the Lanterna, gazing at Ramin in the sun, his mouth wanted to run ahead of his brain. Tell Ramin everything that was in his heart. But it was way too soon to say something like that. He didn’t want to scare Ramin off.
“Noah?” Ramin’s brow furrowed. “Hey. Here. Let me up.”
Noah did, sliding off to Ramin’s side. Ramin scooted back so he was leaning against the headboard. He pulled a pillow over to cover his stomach.
Noah wished he wouldn’t. Ramin was beautiful, his stomach just right for grabbing, his limbs soft in all the right places, hard where it mattered.
“Today’s been a lot for you. It’s okay if you need a while to process.”
Noah shook his head. “I’ve wanted all this longer than I can say.”
“Then what?”
Noah swallowed. He couldn’t say I think I’m falling for you . Even though it was true.
Instead he blurted out the next true thing he could think of.
“I wanted to try some butt stuff?”
Butt.
Stuff.
Noah’s cheeks started heating. What was wrong with him?
What’s wrong was, he was new at this. He was new, and Ramin had a wealth of experience, and he probably thought Noah was ridiculous.
Ramin smirked a bit, but he didn’t laugh.
The knot behind Noah’s chest loosened. Ramin ran a hand down Noah’s arm.
Noah scooted closer. “Okay, so, I guess we haven’t talked about this yet.
I’m mostly a bottom, but I don’t think I can do that, for you, tonight.
You’re big, and that takes more prep work. ”
“Oh,” Noah said.
On the one hand, the thought of making love to Ramin brought his erection raging back from its embarrassment-induced flagging.
On the other hand…
Noah swallowed. He needed to be brave. “I meant me. My butt.”
Also, he really, really wanted Ramin to touch his butt.
“Oh.” Ramin licked his lips. “You sure?”
Noah nodded. He’d never explored the back door. Angela hadn’t been into it. None of his other partners had, either. And he’d always been too nervous to try it on his own.
No, that wasn’t it. Noah was adventurous, but in this… he wanted someone to show him.
He wanted someone who cared about him to be the first.
Yeah, virginity was a social construct, and it wasn’t like Noah had been a virgin for decades, anyway. But vulnerability still mattered, and this made him feel very vulnerable, and he wasn’t going to share that with just anyone.
He wanted to share it with Ramin.
Noah met Ramin’s eyes. “Really sure.”
Ramin was the first one to look away, but only for a second. His beautiful skin was flushing, from his forehead all the way down to his chest. When he spoke, his voice came out husky. “You need to prep?”
“Prep? I don’t have a prescription yet.”
Ramin raised an eyebrow.
It only took Noah a second for it to hit him. Different prep.
“Oh! Right. Yeah. Uh, be right back.”
Noah had , in fact, researched this bit too. He knew how to do it with a plastic water bottle, though now that he thought about it, why had he left that sex store with condoms and lube and a singlet and absolutely nothing to help with prep? He’d walked past an aisle full of enema bulbs.
He finally emerged from the bathroom, feeling clean and relatively confident, only to behold the most beautiful sight in the world:
Ramin, naked, lying on the bed with his ankles crossed, fiddling with a bottle of lube.