CHAPTER 6

      [ Noah ]

Michael was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.

I had the privilege of watching him practice with his fellow teammates and it was safe to say that I was truly in awe. He was so talented and beautiful and funny and ... ugh. Where was this guy my entire life and why was I just meeting him now?

As soon as practice was over, I sprinted down the plethora of bleacher steps and ran onto the field to applaud him for being such an amazing soccer player. I didn't know much about soccer, or sports for that matter, but I could tell that he really enjoyed it. "That was amazing, Mikey! The way you moved your feet with the ball and then it went over there, but then you brought it back and like no one was expecting it and—"

"Mikey?" He questioned, completely disregarding my other comments. His face glistened with sweat and his platinum hair looked more like a dirty blonde since he had doused it in water to cool himself down.

I pressed my lips together. "Do you not like that name? Sorry."

"No, it's just that no one really calls me that ... except for Derek." As soon as he said his name, his eyes fell to the turf field like he had suddenly became interested with it.

"Okay, I won't call you that."

He brought his clear blue eyes back to mine. "No, I like it. Sounds way better than Michael."

"Michael sounds cute," I insisted, but despite my persistence, his face still twisted into a disgusted look.

"It sounds stupid," he countered.

With a defeated sigh, I reluctantly agreed. "Fine, Mikey it is."

He broke into a toothy grin, showing his approval, but the grin quickly disintegrated when his eyes caught sight of something in the distance. "Hey..." he began, still looking into an unknown direction, "...do you want me to drive you home? Kinda need the company anyway."

My heart rate spiked up at the thought of Michael driving me home like boyfriends usually do, but I still tried to keep my cool. "But I thought you had plans after practice," I reminded him.

"Well, I just canceled them." He looped his arm through mine and began to pull me into the direction of the field's exit. He didn't really wait for an answer, but chances were he already knew I would agree to anything he suggested.

In just minutes, we were walking through the parking lot where Michael made it his priority to keep me extra close, like he was afraid something was going to happen to me. The sun was just starting to go down and an eerie darkness was rapidly taking its place, so I wouldn't blame him for wanting to be extra cautious in a vacant parking lot at night.

Once we were settled in the car and on the main route to my house, Mike finally decided to break the silence that had been cloaked over us ever since we left the soccer field. "Do you mind if I, like, crash at your place?"

As expected, my heart jumped at his question. We had only known each other for a few days, but we had already kissed (multiple times) and he was already asking to spend the night. "Um, well, my parents don't really know you so I don't know if they'll be cool with that." It was such a dumb thing to say. I had the opportunity to have Michael in my bedroom, but I was refusing it just because I was scared of my parent's wrath.

"Just say I'm a friend from school," he said with a shrug.

"They know my friends. I only have one."

Michael sighed and started to tap the steering wheel with an irregular, anxious rhythm. "I'm on edge and I don't think I can be at home by myself right now."

"Why? What happened?"

I wanted to know what caused him so much stress so that I'd be able to help, but Michael remained quiet with his lips sewn shut and his eyes glued to the road. I let the silence continue in hopes of him getting the courage to speak, but I realized quickly that he didn't plan to elaborate. So like the total idiot I was, I agreed to let him spend the night at my house. He burst into a fit of exclaims and gratitude while I had to think about how I was going to deliver this news to my parents. Poppa would probably be okay with it, so Dad will the one that I have to persuade.

And I suck at persuading!

"What are your parents like?" Michael asked me once we were walking up to the front door. "Do I need to know anything?"

"My dad gets kinda protective," I answered truthfully. I couldn't really understand how Dad can be so hard on me when he was reckless when he was a teenager. It was like he became a different person after the incident—a person that wanted to know where I was at all times and why I was there.

Michael laughed while I stuck my house keys into the lock. "That's different."

"How?"

"Usually dads are overprotective of their daughters and moms are overprotective of their sons," he stated with a slight shrug. There was something about the way he said it, like it was fact.

"I don't have a mom," I said simply as I unlocked the door and bumped it open with my hip. Swiftly making my way into the house that always seemed to smell like cinnamon thanks to the all the air fresheners that Dad was currently obsessed with, I slid my jacket off my shoulders and hung it on the coat rack. Michael followed suit as he tried to retract his words, obviously afraid that he had offended me.

"Oh, shit ... wow, that was a dick thing to say," was his attempt at an apology. "I get it, though. I have a single parent, too."

I looked over my shoulder at him, eyebrows furrowing. "What are you talking about?"

Unfortunately, Michael didn't have any time to respond because Dad appeared into the main foyer shortly after hearing my arrival, worry written all over his face. "Noah, I was just about to..." He trailed off when his brown eyes landed on Michael. "Who's this?"

"This is Michael," I managed to say even though the air in my lungs was minimizing by the second. How the hell was I supposed to lie to him? "Um, he's my partner for the project I'm working on. I was wondering if he could sleep over, so we could work on it."

"I thought Holly was your partner," Dad noted. His eyes still hadn't left Michael. It was like he was sizing him up and assessing if he was worthy to stand in our house.

"This is a different project," I blurted out, "for World History. We have to create a presentation on the evolution of Chinese dynasties."

Dad still wasn't convinced. He propped himself up against the edge of the staircase behind him and folded his arms against his chest. "He looks a bit old to be a sophomore."

Great, he was onto me! I prepared myself to apologize for lying to him, but Michael spoke before I got the chance.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," he chuckled.

Even though Michael was trying his best to sell this lie for me, it would take a lot more than that to convince my dad. He wasn't one that could be moved easily. The only way he would even consider lightening up was if Poppa got involved.

Which was why I was internally grateful when Poppa strolled into the wide foyer to greet us. He threw an arm around Dad and pulled him closer, attempting to ease the conversation. "Ah, calm down, Jay. It's just a history project. Stop being an asshole."

Dad's brown eyes hardened as he sent his husband a deadly glare. "Language, Ian."

Poppa rolled his eyes. "Yes, Noah, of course your friend can stay over."

Dad cleared his throat. "What? So I don't have a say about whether or not this stranger can stay in my house?"

Poppa's facial expression wavered as he backed away from Dad while raising his hands in surrender. "Of course you do, but—"

"Why do you always try to undermine me?" When Poppa didn't respond to his question fast enough, Dad released a loud, over-exaggerated sigh that showed he was obviously peeved about the situation. Pushing past Poppa, he stomped out of the foyer until he disappeared into the kitchen, leaving us to deal with an awkward silence. We hadn't even been here for five minutes and I was already sure that Michael had a bad impression of my parents.

Poppa ran a hand through his silky black hair in frustration. He stayed still for a moment, probably thinking over how he was going to respond to Dad's outburst, before he said, "Noah, just go to your room. I'll fix this." He shifted his attention to Michael. "Nice to meet you." Then he, too, disappeared into the kitchen.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to completely fade from existence. The first time I brought a boy home, my parents had to act like that? Granted, they didn't know that I was attracted to that boy, or any boys, but it didn't make me feel any better.

When we were safely behind the four walls of my bedroom, I closed the door and said, "Sorry about that."

"Dude, your parents are gay?" he questioned, though I'm sure he didn't really need to question it. "Wait, so that means they aren't your real parents."

I stopped in my tracks and turned around to face him. "They are my real parents."

Somehow, Michael didn't understand that because he rubbed the back of his neck and laughed at me. "Well, yeah, but they can't actually give birth to you."

I felt my hands tightening into fists. It was never my intention to get mad at Michael, but his comment deeply angered me. Sure, I was adopted and that meant that Dad and Poppa weren't my biological parents, but I wouldn't want anyone else. My real parents obviously didn't want me, so I didn't see any point in moping over them. As far as I was concerned, Jay and Ian were my biological parents. They treated me as such and I loved them as such.

I decided not to pay any mind to Michael's little comment; instead, I turned my attention to my opened laptop on my computer desk. I was supposed to video chat with Holly at 7:00. It was now 6:45.

"So now that we're alone..." Michael drawled, pulling my attention away from my computer. He had moved significantly closer to me in such a short amount of time. His blue eyes were practically peering into my soul. "...maybe we can do some more stuff. You know, like graduate from kissing?"

"My parents are downstairs," I felt the need to remind him. The truth was that I was hesitant about going any further with Michael. I knew my parents wouldn't approve of the deal we made and I was constantly looking for new ways to ease my conscience.

"So?" He shrugged.

"They don't know I'm gay."

Michael's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he still didn't let up. He slowly walked over to the door, locked it, then smiled at me.

"I'm not allowed to lock the door," I blurted out. It was a half-truth. I knew Dad wouldn't have liked me locking the door, but it wasn't like I ever tried to. Besides, it wasn't like I had anything to hide ... except for now.

Michael still had that silly smile on his face as he advanced towards me. "Come on, Noah. You're killing me here. If I knew you'd be this way, I would have found someone else to deflower."

"No!" I objected before I had the opportunity to think about it. Of course I knew that Michael ultimately wanted to solve his virginity problem, but I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this so soon. I didn't want him to completely forget about me once he got what he wanted out of me. "I mean, I promised I would do it, but I'm still new to this stuff."

His smile turned into a teasing grin. "So am I. You don't see me making up excuses."

"I'm not making up—"

"Yes, you are." He closed the distance between us and grabbed onto the hem of my shirt to tug me closer to him. "If you keep playing games with me, I'm gonna lose interest."

That hurt more than I cared to admit. "Please don't lose interest," I begged.

He raised a prompting brow, indicating that it was my turn to make a move. I stared back at him, hoping he would change his mind or suggest we do something else. It was a stupid request to make since the only reason he bothered to talk to me was because I had agreed to help him out. I didn't expect it to turn out like this!

"Okay, okay, fine." Shrugging my backpack off my shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, I squared my shoulders to give Michael my full attention.

A satisfied grin stretched onto his lips right before he pressed them against mine. I was surprised at first, like I had been all the other times he had kissed me, but I learned to relax my muscles and allowed myself to enjoy it. His tongue slipped past my teeth shortly
after his hands worked their way into my curls. He gripped my hair tightly, almost too tight that I ended up clamping down on his bottom lip.

He pulled away from the kiss because I thought he was going to scold me for hurting him, but he smiled. "That was hot. Do it again."

"What?" I asked. "That didn't hurt?"

"I like a little pain once in a while." He didn't give me any time to respond because he captured my lips into a hungry, desperate kiss once again with his hands finding their respective place in my hair. The kiss deepened almost immediately when he explored the inside of my mouth with his tongue. I let my eyes flutter shut as our lips molded together and our bodies moved closer.

Michael moved backwards until his knees buckled against the edge of my twin bed, sending us both onto the mattress with me on top of him. He didn't let that stop him because his hands dropped to my waist where he slipped under the fabric of my
shirt and ran his fingers along my back. Tingles shot down my spine, but I wasn't sure if it was because his hands were cold or because he was touching me so intimately.

When he had enough of tracing the groove of my back, he rested his hands at my hips and pressed our lower halves together. A surprised hum escaped my mouth, but Michael didn't stop kissing me. It was like he made it his priority to not let anything stop him from achieving his goal, so he continued to grab fistfuls of my hair and grind out crotches together.

He did break away from the kiss to say, "Wow, you're hard already."

I wasn't even aware that I had gotten a little excited until he pointed it out. Sure enough, I could feel my lower self straining against my underwear. "Oh my god!" I scrambled away from him until I toppled onto the floor. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

Michael rolled his eyes as he sat up. "Noah, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay!" I covered the growing bulge in my jeans with my hands and frantically tried to get to my feet again so I could retreat to the bathroom. Rushing to take a seat on the toilet, I tried to think of something that would make my erection go away. Like Holly.

God, this was so embarrassing! I had never gotten this excited before. Sure I had my moments, but they were never like this!

After I unzipped my jeans, I lifted the waistband of my underwear to check the damage, grimacing at the sight of the dark stain on my white briefs. I had thought I wanted to disappear earlier, but I was sure that I needed to die to save myself from embarrassing myself further.

Obviously my wishes weren't granted because Michael propped open the bathroom door and slowly slipped past the doorway. "Noah, what the hell? Why are you freaking out over a boner?"

I turned away from him. "Because it's embarrassing!"

"How? It's a natural way of life. It means you're attracted to me."

"That's what makes it embarrassing!"

Michael sighed, but he didn't say anything else. After a full moment, I was entirely convinced that he had decided to leave me alone but when I turned around to confirm, I saw that he had pushed his jeans down to his knees, allowing me to see his fully erect and fully exposed penis.

I cupped my hands over my eyes. "Oh my god, oh my god! What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to show you that you don't have to be embarrassed. I'm hard, too."

It took everything in me not to sneak another peek. "Put your clothes back on!"

He ignored me and moved closer to me instead, based on how much nearer his voice sounded. "I can take care of your boner, if you want."

Deciding to stay committed to my actions, I kept my hands cupped over my eyes, refusing to see anything that I didn't need to see. "No, no! I can take care of it. Just put your clothes on and get out of the bathroom before—"

A gasp fell from my lips when I felt his cold hand grab onto my bulge. Unconsciously dropping my hands from my eyes to react accordingly, I realized he was kneeling in front of me. My gaze fell onto his penis again and I covered my eyes once more. "You're a horrible person!"

I heard him chuckle, but his hand remained on my crotch. After a moment's hesitation, he started to move his hand in circular motions while pressing onto the erection in my jeans. My mind told me that I should protest everything that he was doing, but my body was telling a completely different story. My body wanted this, my body needed this, badly.

Michael used his free hand to tear my hands away from my face. "Look at me," he insisted. "I know you like it."

I swallowed down the growing lump in my throat, choosing not to answer. The truth of the matter was ... I did like it.

He pulled on the waistband of my jeans and briefs, forcefully pushing them down to my knees and allowing my growing erection to come to life. My teeth clamped onto my bottom lip as I tried to read the expression on Michael's face as he observed me. "Please don't laugh," I implored before he could get the chance to react.

Michael narrowed his eyes at me. "What? Are you kidding? I'm not gonna laugh. Noah, this has gotta be, like, six inches."

I raised an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"

"It means you have a nice dick," he said rather bluntly.

When I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, I buried my face in the collar of my shirt. Michael responded by hooking a finger around my chin and forcing me to look at him. "Stop."

I nodded. "Sorry."

Without any warning, Michael gripped my dick and moved his hand up and down, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed. I threw my head back and allowed my moans to pour out of my mouth like a running faucet. It was safe to say that I could barely contain myself with how he was pleasuring me and it'd be stupid to even try. A there was a slight chance that I'd get into so much trouble for doing this, but for the first time...

I didn't care.

I wanted Michael to pleasure me. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to do anything he wanted to me.

A few minutes into the hand-job, I grabbed onto Michael's light blond hair. Knowing that he claimed to like pain, I pulled on his hair, not hard enough to cause any serious pain but hard enough to evoke a reaction out of him. I must've done something right because he grinned to himself all while he continue to pleasure me.

"Mikey," I moaned when he palmed my shaft. "Mikey, that feels so ... good."

And that was the wholehearted truth.

When my body finally had enough of Mike's hand gestures, I felt the life build inside me until it poured out of me, spilling all over his hand and on my shirt. Releasing a sigh of relief, I slumped back onto the toilet seat and tried to slow the intensity of my heart beat.

My eyes fell back to Michael who had a smirk on his face. I wanted to ask why he was so smug, but I stopped myself when he brought his fingers to his face and licked my load. "What are you doing!" I nearly screamed. "That's so gross!"

He tilted his head to his side. "It's actually not that bad. I was expecting something entirely different. Kinda tastes like yogurt." He held his hand up to my face. "Wanna taste?"

"No!" I shouted. I also decided not to point out the fact that I had an unhealthy obsession with yogurt.

He shrugged, then licked the rest of the mess from his hand. "Suit yourself."

I watched him as I shook my head in pure disbelief. "You're so weird."

He smacked his lips together when he was finished licking himself, and me, clean. His hands caressed my thighs as as his clear eyes burned into mine. "It's your turn."

I lifted an eyebrow.

"To give me a hand-job," he said, short.

My gaze drifted down to his penis again, slightly amazed at how big it was. I never really spent my time looking at other penises, but I knew his had to be among one of the biggest to ever exist. But after everything he had done for me, I knew I had to repay him. Oddly enough, I felt inclined to do more than what he had done for me. I wanted him to know I was serious. I didn't want him to lose interest. I wanted to show him that I can be just as good, too.

Michael was patiently awaiting my response and when I finally made up my mind, I took a deep breath and spoke in an incredibly seductive voice, "Stand up," I ordered.

He obeyed by quickly rising to his feet, permitting his penis to be at eye-level with me.

"I hope you know that my dads would kill me for doing this," I pointed out.

Michael grinned. "Makes it all the more special."

I rolled my eyes at him in a playful manner before I threw away all of my responsibilities and morals and lowered my mouth onto his penis.

**

a/n: Whoa! Bet you weren't expecting that smut, were you? Honestly guys, Noah is growing to be really special to me. He's becoming near and dear to my heart and I'm gonna cry when I do horrible things to him (which I will because what is a Lara Verne story without the universe working against the characters?)

So the question of this chapter is ... what do you think of Noah's parents? Some of you already started to ask and I just want to say, no, there will not be a story on them. I have way too much stories going on right now so all of their conflicts will be carried out in this book. Sorry, not sorry.

It's currently 1:30 AM, so if you enjoyed this chapter then please show your appreciation by voting and comments. THANK YOU.

Until next time,
Lara <3