Noah's Starship

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Trying different this time...

+{Noah's Starship}+

-+-[Ch. 14]-+-

~By Emri~

+++ Noah +++

"Why we need tiny cups?" Navid asked as he pushed the cart behind me. It was 10 PM and we were out picking up things his mother needed for a dish she wanted to make. He jumped at the chance to have alone time with me when she asked if our onions were still fresh. He immediately told her to make a list of what she wanted.

He'd grabbed me out of my comfortable perch under a blanket on the couch next to his father, Mr. Naseri, who was watching a soccer game. He had said he would go with us, but Navid had told him to stay put. Even though I was yawning, he insisted I needed to get my energy out before bedtime.

"We use them all the time! Mouthwash, a sip of water, um...." I trailed off in thought. He usually paid little attention to me when we were at the grocery store. He would push the cart while checking his emails and texts. I would guide him through the aisles and put in what we needed for the week. Tonight though, he'd put away his phone and was watching me with an interested smile like this was a show he couldn't miss.

"Mouthwash? I sip from the bottle! You don't? Baby... I kiss and adore every inch of your beautiful body and you not want my germs? I spend good money so you can reject me?" Navid faked being offended, but I still felt bad. The grocery store was deserted at this time of night so he was a little more free with his words.

"I... Oh... should I put them back?" I asked. I started to reach into the cart and pull them out but Navid took my hand and brought it to his chest.

"No, if the baby want cups, I buy cups. I will buy the moon if my Noah wants it," Navid said. He brought me into his chest and then leaned me back against the cereal shelf. He put his arm around me and leaned down to kiss my forehead.

"I am so happy we get a minute to be us, my love. I love them but I can't wait for they go home soon. I need my life with you back," Navid said and put a hand to my cheek as I stared up at him. He kissed me on the lips and rubbed my back.

"Me too... I love them though and they are so nice to me," I said when his lips left mine to travel back up to my forehead.

Then he pulled away suddenly. I turned to see what had caught his attention. There was a man a few feet away from us paused with his cart. He gave us a friendly smile when he saw he had interrupted us. He was an older guy, maybe 40 and he had on a suit like he'd been at the office all day. He pushed a cart full of wine and meat like he expected big things out of the rest of his evening.

"Sorry...Excuse me," he said and reached past us to get a can jar of olives off the shelf.

Navid nudged me out of the way and gave him a friendly nod.

"I wish I had been out at your age. I couldn't... You two have a good night," he said and pushed away quickly.

Navid and I looked at each other awkwardly.

"Let's finish up," Navid said and nudged me back towards the cart. I knew what had bothered him the most about the man. It was that he'd assumed we were out, open, living honestly. We weren't. He wasn't. He wanted to be. It bothered him.

"It's ok," I said and took his hand. He started to pull back, but then relented and interlaced his fingers with mine.

"It's a different culture. It's different here. It's ok here," I said and he squeezed my hand tighter. I was the strong one this time. I wished so hard that I could make him realize that no one blinked at two guys holding hands here; that people knew what we were when they saw us together; that here he was allowed to be open about loving another man. Until then though, I'd keep pushing until he wasn't afraid anymore. My strong, proud, Persian love needed his boy.

"I know, Noah... I know," he said and leaned in to kiss my neck.

He was brave for me too though. He pushed me to open up about my anxiety problems. He'd ask me every night how I was and he checked my palms for fresh marks from where I would unconsciously dig my fingernails in when I got a panic attack. It had been a long time since I'd done that, but he never failed to check.

Two nights before, I'd had stomach issues from his mom forcing a heavy dinner on us. Navid was used to it, he ate a lot and burned it off at the gym. I've always hated the feel of food sitting in my stomach and this food didn't feel like it would go peacefully.

I sneaked off to our bathroom upstairs and made myself throw it up. Navid had followed me and walked in, but mistakenly thought it was the food that caused it. I didn't correct him. I didn't want him to think I was gross.

He cleaned me up and helped me brush my teeth, apologizing for his mother's cooking. He helped me to bed and held me in his arms. He didn't act grossed out in the least. He was supportive and took care of me.

"I am so sorry you feel bad. I will do more protective for you with her meals. She pushes because she think you need this more food," Navid explained. He held me against his chest and rubbed my back in the cold, dark silence of our room.

+++

We got home and his father got off the couch to help us put away the groceries. Navid never helped when we went to the grocery store. He did carry everything inside, even if it hurt his hands. He would usually let me carry the paper towels, but he felt it was his duty. He'd usually drop everything on the table and then wander off to work on business. But tonight I had two men who obviously had no idea where anything went.

Navid knew where to put the cereal since he ate it by the box. He loves cheerios. But everything else went in strange places. His dad put the bananas in the refrigerator and Navid thought the kale would do ok in the pantry. It's like they were intentionally messing up so I would never ask for help. Maybe that was the secret to being the Persian man.

I thanked them anyways and waited for them to leave before I fixed everything. Navid lingered on the couch next to his father until I finished. He was playing on his phone as his father watched the news. They sat on opposite ends of the couch like strangers waiting to see the doctor.

Navid followed me upstairs and we got ready for bed, spent some quiet time together, and then drifted off in each other's arms. He had so much pent up tenderness that he'd built up throughout the day for the moment we could be together behind a locked door.

I woke up the next morning to smells of food cooking. It was a sweet nutty smell and I padded downstairs to see what his mother was up to. His father was reading something on Navid's tablet while his mother was taking something out of the oven.

"What is that? It smells really good," I asked.

His father turned to look as though he hadn't noticed his wife was cooking.

"It's a Persian sweet pastry for breakfast. Navid loves it," he said and then offered me a good morning smile.

She turned it out onto a cooling rack and then went to the refrigerator and pulled out some vegetables as she greeted me. I pointed to what she had just pulled from the oven. I inhaled loudly and smiled to show her my excitement for what she made. She laughed and put her right hand on my cheek to thank me.

She seemed to enjoy our kitchen. She had rearranged everything, but very slowly. Each day she moved something to a new location. It must have just been where things were in her own kitchen. I was just glad that she felt so comfortable here. I tried to show her the respect she should have as Navid's mother.

She laid out the vegetables on the cutting board and started talking to me in Persian as though she thought I should know it by now. She lined up the cucumbers we bought the night before, and started to slice them like she was showing me how she wanted them.

"Does she want my help?" I asked Mr. Naseri, Navid's father. He hadn't been paying attention. He was reading something on his tablet.

"Ah... Yes, my boy, she is showing you how they should be sliced for the Maasto... salad she is taking tonight. She says she is sad you cannot go with us to try the traditional meal. Both women usually try to outdo each other and it ends up being the best we eat all year. The Hamids are old friends from our neighborhood back home. But I understand you need to spend time with your father," Mr. Naseri said.

Navid had warned me about the traditional meal. He said it would be very heavy and things I didn't like to eat. He was looking out for me and also letting me spend time with my father. I loved his parents, but I also was beginning to miss my own culture.

I started to apologize and offer to go, but Navid had been adamant that I would be stuffed with food and feel miserable. With his mother, he could protect me somewhat, but with two Persian moms it was every man for himself.

I turned back to his mother and she handed me the knife to finish with the cucumbers. She watched me for a minute and then nodded approval. She gave my shoulder a pat, turned away and went for a bowl to mix up the ingredients.

I heard Navid come into the kitchen and I turned to look for a second. Just as I was appreciating how sexy he looked with messed up hair and a small pair of loose shorts, the knife slipped against my finger. I felt a sharp pain and yelled out as he was saying something to his parents.

"What? Oh shit!" Navid yelled and ran over to me. I held up my hand and watched a trickle of blood running down my finger. My eyes lost focus and I felt weak as he made it to me.

"Why he uses big knife? He is just a boy!" Navid yelled angrily and put his arm around me.

"I think it's just a cut," his father appraised as he moved to Navid's side. His mother shrieked something in Persian and came to look.

The three of them argued in their language as Navid slid his hands to my waist and lifted me up to sit on the counter. His mother grabbed a paper towel and tightly gripped my finger to stop the bleeding.

Navid rushed to the first aid kit we kept in the laundry area and came back with it. He broke open the plastic case and fished out some alcohol pads.

"I hurt myself," I whispered faintly as though I'd been shot or something more serious than a cut.

"It's ok, little one," Mr. Naseri said and put his arm around me. He hugged me against his side as Navid opened an alcohol pad and his mother took the paper towels away. He cleaned it and the three of them inspected it.

"It's just a small cut," Mr. Naseri said though Navid looked as though it was something worse.

"Ouch, that burns," I said when his mother dabbed at it again with the alcohol pad.

"It cleans it, Noah. You must clean this so no infections get in," Navid said and looked at me with the utmost sympathy.

His mother did it again and then blew on it as Navid unwrapped a fresh band-aid. She said something in Persian that sounded like a prayer.

"What's that?" I asked as I sniffed back a tear.

"It's like for protection spell to heal you," Navid said as he studied my cut and then wrapped it.

"Prayer! Not a spell! All better then," Mr. Naseri laughed and offered me a smile.

"No more knives!" Navid ordered and repeated it in his parents' language so we were all clear on the new rule. He took the knife and placed it inside the sink.

"Sorry I messed up the cucumbers," I said to his mom. Mr. Naseri translated it and told me it was ok, to not worry about it.

"I need get ready for work. Noah needs get dressed too, come on." Navid decided I was done helping for the time being. He put his hand on my shoulder and guided me out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

"I'm not just a boy," I said when we got upstairs.

"I know. I panic when I see you bleed. I did not sleep well..." Navid said as he pushed off his shorts. That huge, powerful cock swung down between his thighs. It needed to be out, breathe, get attention from me.

"You will be ok with them today? I will be home as soon as I can and we get ready for tonight." Navid asked. I was thoroughly distracted by his cock.

"Yeah, um... fine," I said and swallowed.

"I feel quite bad you not come with us tonight. You are to be ok?" Navid asked and came to lift my chin. Most times he appreciated my undivided attention on his cock, but he was in a hurry this morning.

"I'll be fine! We're going to try out a new restaurant and there's a game on my dad wants to watch," I said and smiled to show my happiness. He looked worried, tired, unnerved.

"Your parents are so nice. I don't like when you argue with them," I said. He was a bit disrespectful downstairs. The longer they were here the more agitated he seemed to become with them.

"They are getting older, I am becoming the man. I am not ever to disrespect them. They are my people. In my culture we deeply respect the olders, but they become older... they need learn their children are strong, they can depend on them. It is how it is done with us... I show them I am ready," Navid assured as he wrestled his cock into a pair of briefs and hunted for his pants.

"So when you get old..." I started as I took his freshly dry cleaned suit from the closet.

"When I am old, I depend on you...I depend on you now, my sweet Noah. I live for your happy smile," Navid turned my joke into a sweet moment as he came to kiss me. I held out the suit for him after our lips parted. He held it up to prove how much he needed me.

+++

He took a slice of the breakfast bread his mother had made. I gave him a to go cup of coffee and he pulled me out of the kitchen so he could give me a quick, private kiss.

I spent the day with his parents. His mother was making some elaborate dishes for the dinner so his father and I took a walk down the boulevard to look at some shops. He spent a good half hour in the hardware store looking at power tools and telling me what they did. He wished he could take some home to Iran, but it wasn't on the list of acceptable items.

Mr. Naseri and I spent an hour at the coffeehouse just talking and playing cards. He showed me some weird game and the rules seemed to bend in his favor quite often. I didn't accuse him of cheating though, it was nice to spend time with him. He reminded me so much of Navid on the days when he wasn't stressed or in a rush with work. He'd become so focused on his work, his success, making us seem very wealthy. It wasn't the real him.

"You are a nice boy, Noah. I hope my son isn't too overpowering. Being a father for you has made him into a man. I see how responsible he has become," Mr. Naseri told me.

"He's a good man and so successful. He has worked so hard, sir," I said.

"Yes... but I worry about Navid here," He confessed as he dealt the cards.

"Why? He's doing so well, sir," I said and looked at him with confusion.

"Yes, but it is not the success he should have. When it is time to find a Persian wife, he will be too spoiled to be happy with her. He has you here to wait on him and provide the home he needs," Mr. Naseri said with a subtle forcefulness.

"Oh. A Persian wife does do all of those things?" I asked and thought of the stereotypes of women over there all covered and subservient.

"No, she won't. A traditional one might, but women in our part of Tehran are different. They can be demanding and pushy. A wife from our neighborhood will push him to live beyond his means and spend as much as they can to appear wealthy. In my culture, we like gold, expensive cars, big homes. Navid is building up a business here, but will it work the same in Iran? Our economy is not as good. He will struggle there... and the Persian girls of today are not like his mother," He insisted. He looked me in the eyes and reached over to touch my hand.

"She is so nice and kind. I told him he should respect her more and not talk harshly to her," I said.

"You are a very good person, Noah," he said. I noted he said person instead of man or boy. "She raised him to expect the treatment that you offer. You are quiet, happy, respectful, positive. You pick up after him, bring him food, take care of his home."

"He has given me such a nice place to live and pays for my education, clothes, food, everything. It's the least I can do. He works so hard and deserves to come home to a relaxing place," I noted.

Mr. Naseri smiled at me thoughtfully. He gave my hand a squeeze and nodded his approval.

"It's too bad you are not a girl. You are perfect for him," he laughed. I froze.

"Uh..." I said with shock. My face must have turned bright pink because he instantly looked as though he regretted his choice of words.

"Oh, Noah... dear, I was joking. Did I offend you?" he asked with a look of genuine concern. Something in his eyes told me his joke about my gender held a great measure of truth. He really did want me for his son. He never took his hand off of mine. Could they ever accept me as his partner? His love? His boy?

"No, no sir... Not at all." I said and forced a laugh.

"Good. His mother and I love you so very much. You will always belong in our family. We are so grateful that he has you," Mr. Naseri said and squeezed my hand again. I felt his pulse through his fingers as he intertwined them with mine. It was racing. He was nervous about offending me. I squeezed his hand back tightly and rubbed my index finger over the back of his hand to let him know we were ok.

+++ Navid +++

It's that feeling of a growing void in my chest, the hollow part where guilt eats away at my heart. Many lies to many people. Noah doesn't even suspect it. I told him he wouldn't enjoy the dinner since everyone would be speaking in Persian and all the food would be very traditional and nothing similar to the food he liked. I sent him off to spend time with his father. To my parents, I had said that Noah needed time with his father and had not seen him in awhile.

We were going to dinner with the Hamid family. They had lived in the US for many years now and I knew they would quickly figure out what Noah meant to me. I had never brought him there when I visited. Mrs. Hamid would have figures it out and immediately informed my mother. It would ruin everything.

It felt so strange to drop him off at his father's apartment and drive away. It never felt right to leave him somewhere. I walked him up to his father's door, saw him safely inside, and kissed him goodbye. It felt like when we were dating, back before I brought him to live with me. It seems like a lifetime ago, the days before he was mine.

When I was younger, I accompanied my father to England where he was on special assignment with British researchers to share information on a project he was completing. It was a cultural exchange and I jumped at the chance to go with him. I was already a man so he allowed me free movement during the day and it was good practice for my English.

I joined a soccer league at the University where he was working. I was mostly quiet since I didn't speak much of their language and my accent was heavy. It was there that I had my first encounter with lighter boys with milky skin, bright eyes, pink nipples.

I met a guy named Aaron who was 21 and working on a degree in engineering. He was on the team and was one of the few guys who went out of his way to include me. The guys didn't have much experience with outsiders, but I worked hard to prove myself on the field. I quickly earned their respect, but not their friendship.

The first few days I played and then left directly to go back to the campus hotel room I was sharing with my father. I didn't go to the locker room to shower or out with the other guys. It was the end of winter and bitterly cold out. I was out of place and felt immediately homesick. I spent most of the day in front of the TV or exploring the open internet. But on the fourth day of practice, Aaron insisted I go with them and then have lunch with him. I felt my body electrify when he put his hand on my shoulder, it awakened something inside me.

At first I told him no. I told him my father was expecting me. I made various excuses, but he kept his hand on me as though I had no choice. I followed him.

We made it to the locker room, it was brand new as the university had recently invested in its sports facilities. This was the prize team of the small college town. Like Iran, soccer was one thing everyone could get behind. It had lots of small areas, pods, with 8 lockers, two benches, and a shared shower for each.

Aaron and I went to his locker which was away from the other guys. I hadn't thought to bring clothes, but we were nearly equal physically and he assured me he had extra clothes. I shed my kit and then heard him complain about a cut on his toe.

I turned to see what he was talking about He had taken off his shirt and pushed off his shorts. He put one foot up on the bench to examine it. He had on a white jockstrap that left his ass exposed and spread open as he bent forward.

His cheeks parted and I saw something that would change me forever. His cheeks were milky white, hairless, and framed a tight, pink hole. I was fascinated by it. I hadn't seen one before and it interested me.

"See? I think that's what kept me from getting a solid kick the last time," Aaron said, but I wasn't paying attention.

He turned to see what I was up to, and then a look of awe cloaked his face.

"Woah, uh..." he said and raised up from the bench. I felt my cheeks blush deeply. I thought he was in shock from watching me check out his bum, but that wasn't it. He turned towards me and took a step to the side as he stared at my cock.

"That's um... I mean... I'm not a poof or anything, but... Christ! That's the biggest one I've ever seen," he whispered so the other guys wouldn't hear us. They were all off in other parts though, joking and laughing loudly.

"My? Oh... yeah?" I asked as it dawned on me what he was referring to. I looked down at my cock. It wasn't hard, but it wasn't entirely soft.

"Fuck, that's a big un," he noted as he slid off his jockstrap.

I looked down at his as it rested politely between his thighs. It looked pale, like it hadn't been outside in a while. It was curiously small, but cute. It seemed right for him. I didn't respond. I turned back towards the empty locker to hide my smile. I stuffed my clothes in there and we made our way into the showers. We showered back to back, but I caught his eyes on me a few times. It was different after that. His looks were less eye to eye and more eye to crotch.

We hung out a lot after that, and he invited me to his house. He lived near campus with his parents, but they were out a lot. The very first time I went we headed straight for his room. He tried to entertain me with his video games and his football posters, but an unspoken need hung over us.

It started as just touching, he'd pull on my arm or try to put me in a headlock. I wrestled my way out quickly and then pinned him face up into my armpit. It was an awkward hold, he could have slipped away. But he didn't. He put his nose into it and inhaled. It freaked me out and I pulled away.

And then he came for me. He pushed me back against his bed and then landed on top of me. He pushed my arms up and tried to pin them above my head, but I had army training from the age of 14. I quickly pushed him up and flipped him over onto his back. I pounced on him and pushed his arms up as he had tried to do to me.

I stared at him as I easily held his arms above his head with just one hand. He wasn't fighting. His soft, green eyes stared up at me with eager anticipation. He had a look of submission.

I don't know what came over me, but I leaned down and put my nose to his. I bored my dark eyes into his greens and stared him down. I felt his lips pucker up against mine. I wasn't caught off guard by it. I wanted it. It was his only small movement on his otherwise still body.

I reciprocated. My lips wrestled his into submission and instinctively his legs spread out and wrapped around my waist. I lowered myself against him until my hardening cock nuzzled in between his cheeks.

That first day we just touched, he was fascinated by my cock and kept begging to suck it. It seemed too far to go with another guy, but I eventually gave in. His lips kissed up my shaft and then he lapped at my tip with his tongue.

It was the first time I'd had someone do that and he would later confess that it was his first time as well. He kept stroking the shaft and lapping at the head until something inside me took over. I put my hand on his head, slid my fingers through his thick shock of light hair. I gripped it between my fingers and guided his lips up and over the tip.

His eyes flashed up at me to show his eagerness to learn as I guided him down. He slurped the underside with his tongue as the roof of his mouth rubbed the head. I started to force him farther until he gagged, tried to pull away. I let him go, but after a quick recovery he wanted more. It didn't take long and I shot down his throat. He coughed hard as he tried to either get it to go down or come back up. I had coated his throat. I was lodged there like the lump he produced in mine.

After that first time, I warned him when I was about to shoot. He'd take his mouth away and jerk me off until I shot over his face and my stomach. He loved to play with it and compare our cum. Mine was thicker, heavier. He'd always taste it and pretend not to like it.

As the days wore on, we went further until I finally seeded him. He was my first hole to fill and my first heart to love.

He worried so much that we would be found out, we both did. His parents, like mine, would never accept that he could be with a man and certainly not one like me. His culture, his friends, everything would reject him. We usually had an hour or so before his parents came home from work. We did things quietly, behind locked doors, and began to avoid each other off the field or outside of his room. I never said much to his parents.

They didn't offer me dinner or ask me questions. I was the brown boy, the foreigner. Aaron didn't want to bridge that. He said they weren't worth getting to know.

And then we left. My father finished his assignment, transferred all of the work back to the waiting labs in Iran, and we headed home. I never went to say goodbye to Aaron. He knew I was leaving and our last night was spent together in his room holding each other and kissing while making stupid promises we both knew could never be fulfilled.

I was brave all the way to the airplane, but once we were home I locked myself in my room and cried for hours. I missed every part of him, every inch of his smooth, pale skin. I missed his laugh and the way he begged me to fuck him, but that part of my life was over.

It was a test from Allah, and I failed. I gave in to the temptations. The heartbreak, the deep ache I felt for him, was my punishment. I put it aside and forced myself to be disciplined. I was called out with my army unit to patrol in the border areas, and I used the time away from family to get my body in shape, my head focused, and my heart towards Allah. I would never again go down that path and be burned by the fires of lust. I even stopped working on my English.

When I was accepted to several international universities, my father begged me to go back to the UK. He had studied there and loved the culture, the people, even the dreary weather. He was eager for family trips to visit me there. But I couldn't. I had decided to be faithful to Allah and prove that it was a one time thing with an abnormally beautiful boy. I couldn't be exposed to the situation again.

I thought things in America; land of guns, fast cars, fast food, loud people; would hold fewer boys who could be weak with each other.

But it wasn't. It was a buffet of boys like Aaron.

I found myself in Los Angeles, a city full of blonde boys with pale skin and light eyes. None were as handsome or sweet as Aaron though. I met boy after boy and tried to recreate what I'd had with him, but nothing fit just right. No one was comparable.

Here they saw me as a fetish, a hot masculine Persian guy who could seed their holes roughly with his sword. I conformed to what they wanted. I was mean, arrogant, abrasive. I took what I wanted from them and then moved on to the next when they got too clingy. I had stopped looking for love.

I gave up hope that an American Aaron could exist. A good, kind, pure soul who electrified me like Aaron was not a possibility. I would fuck every guy who begged for it until I got it out of my system. Then I would go home to Iran and become a family man.

And then I met Noah.

Noah wasn't quite like Aaron either. He had Aaron's eyes, but they were wider, attracted more admirers though Noah rarely noticed. He had Aaron's milky skin, but was less sturdy and bulky. He had Aaron's smile, but with fuller lips that begged to be kissed. He had Aaron's warmth and kindness, but was quieter, more reserved.

Noah's beauty, inside and out, made the heartache I felt at Aaron's loss seem worthwhile, necessary.

The first few times we talked I sensed he was afraid of me. He wasn't turned on by the arrogant abrasive Persian, but he didn't pull away either. Like Aaron, his instincts for a stronger man drew him in. He persisted. It's like he was waiting to find the real me. He knew this was an act and waited patiently for me to drop it.

The day we shared a bench and took a picture with my friends. He was snuggled into my side, under my arm. I touched him; he felt like Aaron. Yet he electrified me in a different way. His skin was softer, untouched by harsh expectations. Aaron had known sports, competition, wrestling. Noah had never fought to be accepted. He knew only of kindness, sweetness, peace. He fit me. He was the one.

I smelled the soap from the back of his neck and it brought back a rush of memories. Afternoons spent with Aaron in his bed wrestling until we fucked, showers in the locker room where we tried to see who could get more tugs on the other's cock (He always won that because mine was so much larger and easier to grab), late nights sharing a small twin bed under a blanket so the world couldn't see us hopelessly embraced in each other's' arms.

He had the base of Aaron's scent, but Noah smelled fresher, sweeter. He had an innocence to him, a boy who had never seen war, never had pressure to fit a mold or be someone other than who he was. He was good, honest, innocent, and pure, like a flower growing wild in an untouched valley. He was the type of mate my parents would have chosen for me, except for his gender. The more time I spent with him, the more it felt wrong to be without him.

And then I hurt him. It was the time he found me smoking pot with my friends. He tried to run away and I tried to stop him. He was so upset, thought I was having sex with the older white guy who brought pot and alcohol so he could hang out with us. Noah misinterpreted it, panicked and tried to leave. He hurt his hands, dug his nails into his palms as he does when he panics. I grabbed his arm and left a bruise. Of course I couldn't wrestle with him like that. He was too soft, too sweet and I marked him.

I failed to protect him. I hurt him, let him down. I learned that I had to be more gentle with him, keep him away from my past. I had so much darkness inside of me then, but he is light enough for both of us. He is the one piece of me that is good, trusting, beautiful.

Even my parents changed in his light. He fit with us, made us softer to each other.

My father, normally critical and harsh, turned to a docile dragon, a muted warrior who enjoyed silly jokes with Noah. He even put his arm around him and taught him about the science or soccer shows they would watch together on tv. Noah didn't care about either, but he sat happily and learned from my father, revered his wisdom. They talked endlessly and my father always kept a hand on him as though he were an angel who could disappear if not secured.

It was like how my grandfather changed around my youngest brother. They were inseparable friends, sharing a bond they had with none other. I could tell my father loved him deeply, welcomed him into our family bond. My father lit up at the sight of him, and fawned over him like his favorite son. Could that so easily be broken by having him as his son's lover?

My mother, though she didn't speak his language, seemed to blossom with happiness at showing Noah how to prepare Persian foods. He watched what she did and tried respectfully, reverently to learn from her like a traditional new bride from our culture would be expected to do. She treated him as though he were her favorite daughter, her beloved apprentice.

It was something my mother constantly complained about with my older brothers' wives. They had no respect or patience for the old ways. But Noah took to them as though it was something new and exciting. It was so natural for him, and yet just the kind of wife she would bond with and cherish in our family. She had never spent time teaching the boys in my family how to prepare food, yet with Noah she welcomed his help, his eager assistance.

I laughed at that thought. The thought of Noah in our family home in Iran cooking with the wives and gossiping with my mother about the social circles she ruled with her iron will. Noah fit so perfectly into everything we held sacred. But he wasn't a woman. He didn't check the first box so the following boxes were irrelevant.

"Are you listening to me? You are so distant, Navi," my mother said from the backseat.

"No, mummy. What troubles you?" I asked in our language. Honestly I was racing home. Noah had texted just as we were leaving the Hamid's house that his father had dropped him off and the door was locked. I always made sure to ask him if the door was locked when he texted that he was home. Sometimes he forgot to do it.

I soared through a yellow light on Reseda, and my father cursed.

"Slow down, maniac! You want to kill us?" He yelled. He was unhappy from an argument with Mr. Hamid who, in his words, had become too Americanized. I could tell he wanted to get home to Noah as much as I did, he was calmer around him.

"I was going over the list. Ziyah is looking like your best option. Mrs. Hamid was telling me in the kitchen that she has lost a lot of weight and hopes to marry soon. She's over 30 now, and finishing a Doctorate in biology! She doesn't want children, but for you she would consider a few. You're so handsome that any of the girls on the list would bare your children!" My mother said happily as she unfolded the paper she kept in her purse.

My mother keeps lists of our potential mates. She has one for every unmarried child. It is her duty to find us the best Persian wives or husbands. She makes notes from when we are children. Is the girl too stubborn? Is the boy too weak or violent? Is the family good? The lists grow and shrink as she meets new families or removes old ones who prove to be unsuitable.

When we married, the list was put away, tucked into her jewelry box. It was a memento of her success, her hard work paying off.

"I don't like her. I've never liked her. Since we were children, she was bossy, rude," I protested like there was ever any danger of me actually marrying her.

"You're still sore about the time she locked you in our closet. You were four years younger than her, you annoyed her. But now she is getting to the age where she needs to marry, become respectable. She says you are very handsome," My mother said.

"Will you please not kill us tonight?" My father yelled as I cut a sharp corner on Burbank to catch the yellow arrow.

"Sorry. I need the restroom." I lied.

"You should have brought Noah. The Hamids have a daughter ready to graduate High School. They want her to find a Persian man, of course, but she has different ideas. A nice boy like Noah would be good for them. She is pretty and I know she would have caught Noah's eye," my father said.

"Noah does not need anything in his eye other than his books. He will focus on school and finish before his eyes travel elsewhere," I shot back. Noah was mine to guide, not his.

"You are a harsh father to him. The boy will grow to resent you if you don't allow him some freedoms. He will rebel back to his old ways," my father cautioned.

"I keep him focused. He thrives under my discipline. You've seen how sweet and respectable he is. That is not by accident," I said as though I had anything to do with Noah's sweet and gentle nature.

I wheeled a sharp right onto our street and headed over the 101 freeway.

"I'm surprised you're not in jail with this reckless driving you do," my father sniped. I ignored it and turned into our complex.

Noah was inside when we arrived. He had his back to us and was singing along to some music in his headphones. He carried a basket of clean laundry and danced a few steps as we paused to watch. He wheeled around in mid chorus and froze when he saw us. He was embarrassed, but otherwise happy. He was always happy. His life was uncomplicated. It kept him pure.

Normally, I would have rushed to take the basket and kiss him when I came home from things. But I couldn't embrace him and that self-placed knife in my chest twisted a little more. Instead I took the basket and told my parents that I needed to go and help him.

He looked adorable in his pajamas. He had showered so his normally gelled up hair was a flop of blonde on top with close shaved sides. His cheeks blushed deep crimson and I wanted to kiss them.

There's something about finding your soulmate. I'd never even considered bringing a boy that I loved around my parents. Their approval was life to me. But for him, I could foresee walking the treacherous road ahead. His life was worth more than my own, his happiness above mine.

With each passing day I spent with my most important people under the same roof, I edged closer to screaming, "Fuck it! I love him! You love him! You know he will be perfect for our family so just get the fuck over it!"

It would destroy my parents, my family, my only blood ties in this world. But they loved him dearly. I loved him, and couldn't be without him. There had to be some way we could all make it through this intact.

My parents went to hug Noah and gave a kiss to his cheeks and forehead.They fawned over him like he was their youngest child. My mother blessed his forehead with her lips, her spoken prayers. She did not give those lightly. Noah had no idea what it meant to her, he just melted in smiles at their touch.

She produced a wrapped plate of cookies from her purse. She had smuggled them for him, and he took them as if they were Pharaoh's gold. He thanked her profusely as my father translated. He said that he missed them, and couldn't believe their trip was nearly over. It was beautiful to see him happy, but I had a need for him. I nodded towards the stairs. He clutched the cookies and bounded up them. I clutched the laundry basket and followed with calls of good night to my parents.

I loved how his firm, bubbled ass bounced up the steps. I couldn't wait to get inside him, but first I needed some mending with his heart.

"Did you have fun? Did you eat anything gross?" he said as his beautiful light green eyes sparkled in the light of the bedroom.

I just nodded, tossed the basket of laundry aside, and sat down on the bed. I took his hand, pulled him towards my lap. He walked forward and straddled my lap, sitting on my thighs and wrapping his arms around my neck.

"Are you going to help me with the laundry?" he asked with a mischievous smile as though we had really come up here for that.

"No, we need talk, princess. I miss you," I said. It used to bother him when I called him my princess. It took me awhile to understand that he truly had no interest in a female role.

But then I stopped doing it and he missed it. I was holding him on the couch under a blanket and he rubbed his little white nose along my beard. He looked up at me with innocent eyes and asked why he wasn't my princess anymore. I assured him that he would always be that and I went back to it.

"But they'll wrinkle if we leave them in the basket," Noah urged as he rubbed his forehead against mine. He truly wasn't hurt at all that I hadn't taken him with my family tonight. I felt my stomach twist because it meant he did truly trust me, never suspected I had selfish motives to lie.

"Noah... I..." I realized it would do more harm than good to bring it up. He was ignoring my words anyways. He was too excited to be in my lap and began nuzzling his nose into my neck.

"Yes sir?" he said with the soft voice he used when he needed me. He wasn't up for a serious conversation right now.

"I missed you baby," I said, and his lips found mine. I slid my arms around him and whirled around to lay him on the bed. I pushed him off of me and he landed on his back, laughing with anticipation. He stopped then and looked up at me as he bit his lip. He was already dressed for bed, a small soft t-shirt and the flannel pajama pants he wore to stay warm in my absence.

I slid off my shirt and tossed it to the side. I flexed for him in the dim light of the bedroom. It always brought that look of awe. Though I knew he loved me for my heart, my mind; he still got weak at the sight of my hard earned, dark body. Like most white boys he had the fantasy of the alpha Persian, the forceful lover who took what he wanted. He wanted a man, a forceful man who fulfilled his fantasies. I wanted a kind, beautiful boy who would comfort me after a day of battle. I knelt on the bed and loomed over him, ready to take what I wanted.

"You want my seed? You want me bury in your tight little pink?" I asked knowing full well that he craved it.

"Yes, please!" He flipped over on all fours and wiggled his cute little ass. I couldn't resist it. I knelt beside the bed and pushed down his pajama pants. He had on the little pink briefs that barely covered his ass. I pushed the back of them to the side and rubbed my thumb over his sweet, tender, pink hole.

"That pussy," I sucked in air as I took it in. It was so beautiful, so tight, only opened for me.

"It needs you," he whined and pushed back towards my face. He had showered, smelled so fresh for me. I dove in with my tongue and lapped at it. He was always ready for me.

He pushed his face into the bedspread as he whined and begged for my attention. I knew how much he needed it. I couldn't say no to my Noah, to my duty, to my love. I was already rock hard. I was always hard when I saw his hole, when he sat on my lap, or even just when he kissed me.

I dove in and pushed him forward as I attacked his hole with my tongue and lips. I pushed down his pajama pants and took a brief pause to slide off his briefs. He sprawled out on his tummy and moaned with a mouthful of his pillow as I dove back in. His hole seemed almost as tight as the first time we were together.It took me so many months of working to open him before I thought he was ready for my cock. I wouldn't hurt him, no matter how much he begged for it.

"Uhhhh fuck," Noah whined loudly when I hit that just right spot that makes his body convulse.

"Noah!" I cautioned as I pulled away from him. "They hear us, please."

"Sorry, sorry. I'll be quiet," he said and rolled over onto his back. He pushed his pajamas and briefs off the one leg they were clinging to and set them on the floor. He pushed up his shirt and struggled out of it to show me his small, pale chest with the most beautiful small pink nipples.

"Don't worry, my love. Soon we will have our home back and you fill it with every beautiful noise your body can make." I sat up on the bed and rubbed his thighs. He leaned up to kiss me.

His naked body shivered as the cold air conditioning hit it. I quickly crawled over him, brought him up into my chest, held him in my strong arms. He wrapped his arms around me and spread his legs to wrap them around my waist. He clung to the protection of my warmth as our lips pressed together and our tongues intertwined.

I rubbed my right hand up his side and over his chest. He had been working on weight lifting with me just a little. He couldn't lift much, but along with my mother's cooking, it was giving a little more definition to his skinny frame. I felt the beginnings of a square cut emerge from his pecs. It was perfect for him. He didn't need much.

I rubbed up to his neck and then slid two fingers between his lips as I broke our kiss. He sucked on my fingers eagerly. He knew the drill, knew where they were going. He looked up at me with the innocent green eyes that begged me to fill him with what he needed.

"Soon, my love. I seed my princess," I whispered as his whimpers grew.

"Do you want to try both inside you or just one?" I asked as I spit-shined fingers from his lips.

"I, Noah Kinney, give my verbal consent for two fingers," he said with a laugh. He was making a joke because we both had to watch the yearly required online video about sexual assault for our college. In California, you have to give your consent to the stronger partner for sexual activity.

It wasn't something to joke about, but Noah's innocence and immaturity was showing. He'd been sheltered from such things so he didn't realize that it wasn't funny. I never wanted him to lose that innocence. I protected my wildflower fiercely.

I reached between his thighs and pressed against his hole as my lips found his again. He had learned how to breathe and open for me. He worked with me as I slid inside him. His body gave a sudden shiver and he moaned as his lips sucked on my tongue. I loved how he reacted to my touch. Mine was the only touch his hole knew and it would always be that way. My Noah was perfection, and I worked hard to please him.

"Come on baby, let me in," I said as I moved to suck on his ear.

"Yes sir," he whined in that voice that told me he needed this as badly as I did. His body went weak as I held him up with one arm.

"I love you, princess. You are my world," I breathed against his ear softly.

"Yeah, fuck me," he said back. His lust always overtook his sweetness when I was opening him.

I slid the fingers in deeper and rubbed them gently inside his tight canal. I strummed the right spots softly as he quivered and lurched about with gasps.

"Fuck fuck fuck," he hissed and I breathed a shush against his lips to remind him of our tenuous privacy. My parents were likely in the next room preparing for bed. I couldn't wait to have our home back where I could make him scream and let out the beautiful music he made when I fucked him just right. I needed my bird to sing. He sounded so sweet when I made love to him.

"Sorry," he said half-heartedly. He pressed his lips against my shoulder and sucked to show his pleasure. I was so hard and he was so ready. I could have popped just from rubbing against him.

"Turn for me, sweet princess," I said and slowly slid my fingers out. I wiped them on a hand towel and then went to get the lube from its hiding place. Noah laid back on the bed and recovered his breath before turning over and getting on all fours to wait for me.

It wasn't our favorite position. I loved to watch his green eyes dance and roll back as his body processed the waves of pleasure when I fucked him. I liked him on his back so I could monitor his face, ensure I wasn't hurting him.

I had to be careful when I fucked him. Once I got my cock inside him the lust always took over. My animal awakened and wanted to use more force than he could handle. I had to be the responsible one, the one who held back just enough so he wouldn't be damaged. Noah's love was bigger than his hole. He always begged for force, but he wasn't made for that. He was delicate, soft.

"Are you ready?" I asked. I needed him to think about it.

"Yes, please fuck me," he begged with exasperation.

"I will, my love. I'm coming, hold on." I got the lube from its hiding place and snapped it open. I slicked up my cock and then went to spread his ass. I squeezed a thick line of it over his hole and pushed it inside him. I used a lot with him. It was a bitch to clean, but it was better for him.

I stood on the side of the bed where my cock was lined up with his hole. He wiggled it for me in anticipation as I grabbed his hips and rubbed them. I pushed my cock against his hole and it slid up between his cheeks. I leaned down over him as I rubbed it against his hole. I kissed the back of his neck, smelled that fresh scent of his bodywash mixed with Noah lust. I inhaled it and smiled.

"I love you, Noah," I whispered as I bit on his earlobe.

"I love you too," he finally said back, but then quickly added, "Now please fuck me." I laughed at my baby's single focus mind.

I put the tip to his hole and slowly pushed inside him. I took my time, both to ready him for it and to calm myself a bit. I didn't want to come too soon. I wanted to give him what he needed. He inhaled sharply and then buried his face in the covers to muffle his begging.

"It's coming, princess, patience," I said and leaned down over him as I slowly pushed into him. His hole was so tight and gripped my cock perfectly. He was made for me.

I slid in deeper, rubbed his chest, hugged him back against mine. Every time I pushed in more though, his little noises grew louder and I tried to silence his lips with my own. Inch by inch I pushed into my boy and waited for him to adjust.

I kissed along his neck while I waited. I rubbed my beard over his ticklish spots then held him as he wiggled with laughter and tried to escape. It relaxed him and I quickly slid in a little more. His giggles gave way to a deep moan of pleasure. He turned his face to look up at me with those desperate eyes and ragged breath.

"You feel so good," he whispered. He pushed his lips up towards me and I kissed him. I finally gave a last push and was in as far as I could go. I felt my balls settle in between his thighs, and he gave a little look of discomfort to let me know I'd gone far enough.

I slid a hand down his chest to rub his tummy. This was where I could tell most that Noah was still maturing. He could be brought to finishing just from rubbing his stomach. I gave it a soft push as it helped his ass open to me. He whined in pleasure and turned back to look at me full on with those huge, beautiful eyes.

"I think you're ready," I whispered.

"Fuck me, daddy." he begged and reached behind himself to rub my hairy abs.

I slowly slid out of him and was rewarded by the tight grip of his hole that never wanted to release me. I leaned down and kissed on the back of his neck as he buried his face into the pillow to muffle his happy noises. I got halfway out and then sunk back in. He took me easier this time, his body knew what was expected of it.

"Uhhh," Noah groaned as I sank all the way inside him. I grabbed for my wadded up briefs and put them next to his face. He'd once chewed a hole in my t-shirt when we were trying to fuck quietly. He is my little goat sometimes. I am ok with that.

I started to work up a slow rhythm with him sucking happily and making soft noises. His hole feels so good that I always have to think about other things when I fuck him. I never had this problem when I tore through a pile of faceless white boys before I met him. I used to focus on my own pleasure, seed them in a condom, and then push them out the door. They liked it rough, angry, the alpha foreigner's mystique.

Noah was different. I wanted him to enjoy it fully, to always want more. I usually watched his face to gauge it, but it was hard to see at this angle.

"Noah, we turn now. I need see you, baby," I said, deciding I couldn't miss out on that even if it meant his noises alerting my parents. I carefully helped him flip over as my cock stayed buried in his hole. As he turned, his ass gripped me and left a trail of sensations. I had to breathe deeply to stop myself from cumming. His body knew how to drive me wild.

Noah laid on his back and looked up at me with trusting eyes. He is a flexible boy and quickly spread his legs and pushed them behind his elbows. I was between his thighs and starting to slide in and out of him again.

"Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh," he grunted as I pushed into him in a faster rhythm. He was sucking on the briefs to keep himself quiet, but I wanted my lips to do that for him. I tried to pull my briefs from him, but he held them with his teeth and growled at me like a puppy.

I laughed at his cuteness and then leaned forward and bit at the fabric. We played tug-of-war for a minute with my underwear until he let go and they smacked against my face.

Noah gave a short laugh that quickly turned into a deep gasp as I slid into him. I took advantage of his parted lips to slide in my tongue and keep him quiet. He sucked on it eagerly as I started to fuck him again. I felt beads of sweat drip off my chest and forehead as I rubbed our bodies together.

I slid my hand down his stomach to feel his hard cock. It was pulsing against my stomach as it rubbed each time I slid in or out of his hole. I arched my back up a little so I could grip his shaft. I don't usually do much with Noah's cock. It suits him. It's big for a boy of his size, but it didn't get in the way. He wanted me to pay more attention to it. I was trying to be the lover he needed and reward him for being such a calming soul with my parents.

I felt his sucking intensify on my lips as I slowly rubbed his cock while I fucked his hole. I rubbed the hand over his tummy to collect the sweat I'd dripped on him and used it to lube his shaft. I always got so hot when I fucked him. It was an intense experience for me.

"Fuhhh," Noah whined when I took my lips away to kiss down his neck. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held on as I rode him. I gave few more tugs to his cock before I felt his body convulse with release. His beautiful green eyes fluttered as his body pulsed against me. His hole clamped and released on my cock and I felt my body pushed to the edge as well.

"Ahhh," he tried to keep quiet, but I put my lips to his again. He moaned on my tongue as I started to quickfuck his hole. I shoved in deep and then pulled back out as he twisted and shook under me.

"Mmmm" was all he could say as I tongue fucked his mouth and shoved my cock all the way inside him. I lowered down to press his small frame into the mattress. I felt his dick still pulsing against my stomach as he shot out the last of his creamy white boy filling.

"That's my baby, You want my seed?" I whispered to him as he came down.

"Yes, daddy, please," he begged. I slid out and then rammed inside him as my cock began to pulse and stretch his boyhole to the limit. I fired off inside him as his body clamped down on me from the pleasure.

"Ahhhh, fuck," I hissed against his ear as I released my day's pent up cum and love into his hole.

"Fuck, fuck fuck" I repeated as my body pulled him in tightly to move with me. I pushed deeper into him with an "ah, ah, ah!"

"Yes, fuck me, own that hole," he whined as I shot off round after round inside him. I came so much with him. He sucked me dry of my seed. I kissed up his neck, sucked along his cheek. His soft skin felt cool against my burning lips.

"Ahhhh," I grunted as I finished inside him. I collapsed onto him, but quickly rolled over onto my back and brought him with me. He was too small to support my weight, and he fit so perfectly on my chest. We laid there until we both drifted off to sleep with a mess of sticky cum between us and my cock still lodged in his hole. I held him against my heartbeat and we both disappeared into the dreamworld.

I did wake up an hour later or so and I carried him off with me to the shower to clean us. He was half-asleep and propped against my chest. I cleaned us off quickly and then we went back to bed.

+++

My parents would be gone in just a few more days. I thought about this when I came down the next morning and saw Noah on the couch with his head under my father's arm. Dad was reading the paper while Noah was looking at a nature show on the animal channel. Dad had his arm across Noah's chest and was rubbing him like a pet. I turned the other way when I heard my mom call to my dad about his breakfast. She was cooking something in the kitchen and humming a song she used to sing when we were young.

The people I loved most were all perfectly at ease with each other.

I stopped for a minute to take it in. I smiled to myself and wished that it could always be this way. My family, my boy, my loves in harmony.

+++

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