Knowing Noah

by c m

Chapter 7

It's the end of term Noah and I say a tearful goodbye – but I promise him I'll call as soon as I've talked to my parents. Noah heads home to London by train, and I'm picked up by my parents. We head back to where we live, just outside Marlow in Buckinghamshire.

'So how was your first term , Ollie?' asks my mother, shortly after we set off.

'Great, thanks. Work's going well, I got to do some acting and I've made some really good friends.'

'Sounds like a perfect start.'

I decide it's now or never.

'Mum…Dad…there's something I need to tell you.'

'Sounds ominous,' says my father - which doesn't help.

'It's, well…I'm gay.'

There's a moment of complete silence and I'm sure the world is about to cave in.

'I see,' says my mother, 'well, thank you for telling us Ollie. I don't suppose it was easy.'

'Are you…OK with it?' I ask.

'It's not what I would have chosen, Ollie, but of course it's alright. You are what you are. What made you realise?'

'I met someone.'

It all goes silent again.

'He didn't…make me gay, Mum. I've sort of known for ages. We really, really like each other – love each other.'

'How did you meet?' asks my father.

So I tell them the whole story. I tell them what Noah is studying, about him playing rugby – and how I ended up playing, which made them both laugh, and about how he's a brilliant actor…and how he failed to get a part probably because he's black.

There is a momentary pause. Nothing more.

'Well, this Noah sounds like a nice chap,' says my father, 'when do we get to meet him?'

I am so surprised I hardly know what to say. First, both my parents are clearly fine about me being gay, and second they've virtually invited him to stay just as I was wondering how to bring the subject up. And as I'd expected, the fact that he was black is of no interest or concern to them at all.

'Umm…I'd love you to meet him. Could he come and stay for a day or two? Before Christmas?'

I see my parents look at each other. Dad shrugs.

'I don't see why not.'

'Thank you…thank you so much. I just know you'll love him.'

'I'm sure we will,' says my mother.

And that's that.

Once we're home, and I've unpacked, I lie on my bed and call Noah.

'Hey gorgeous,' he says, 'lovely to hear from you. Good trip?'

'Very good,' I say.

'And you still feel OK about telling them you're gay?'

'I've already done it,' I say. And if there's a race of smugness in my voice then I think I'm entitled to it.

'What?! You've told them already? Wow. How did it go?'

'I told them in the car…and it went fine. In fact Dad suggested you should come and stay so that they could meet you.'

'He did? How amazing.'

'I know. So when are you coming?'

'Where are we today? December 8th. I need a few days at home to sort some things out, but how would Thursday 13th suit? I could stay two nights if that was OK, then be back here to help my parents with a function at the church on the 15th .'

'Sounds great. I'll check with my folks and call you.'

'Fantastic. And well done, Ollie…and I can't wait to see you.'

'Me either, Noah.'

'Love you.'

'Love you too.'

Over dinner, I let my parents know the dates Noah has suggested and ask if that's OK.

'That all sounds fine, Ollie. And, forgive me being blunt, but as you refer to him your boyfriend, will he be using the guest room, or will he be sharing with you?'

I can't help but blush. 'Err, if it's alright with you, he'll share.'

'That's fine. Just respect the fact that your father and I are only down the corridor.'

I blush even harder. And then I realise that that's my mother's equivalent of Josephine's 'exercise some self-control'. I can't help but smile at the memory. Mum notices.

'What's the smile about, Ollie?'

So I tell her – and she laughs.

'I think I'd like Josephine.'

'I think you would too.'

The next few days pass in a blur; I meet up with some of my school friends and we exchange University experiences. And I come out to Paul, my best friend from school, and tell him that I have a boyfriend.

'All the more girls for me,' is his only response, and then, 'Will he be coming down to see you over the hols?'

'Yes…next Thursday.'

'Great. Can't wait to meet the poor sod.'

'Ooh you..'

We mock tussle like we we've done for years whenever we insult one another – which is all the time.

'I assume you're fucking each other bandy-legged,' he adds.

'Wouldn't you like to know….but I assume no-one's been sufficiently optically challenged to fall for your ugly mug and relieve you of your virginity yet.'

'That's as maybe; all I'm saying is that you might not be the only one to have a friend from Uni stay this holiday.'

'I'll let the opticians know there'll be someone along who needs glasses,' I say.

'I have no idea why I like you,' says Paul with a shake of his head.

'It's a puzzle isn't it?'

We get back up off the floor.

'It's good to see you though Ollie.'

'Good to see you too Paul.'

And then he wants to know all about Noah.

By the time it gets to Wednesday, I'm missing Noah. Not just his body – though god knows I miss that – but his presence, his laughter, the smell of his cologne… all the things you never really think about until they're not there. We've talked every day and I know he feels the same – and we both can't wait for tomorrow.

He takes the train to High Wycombe, and I borrow Mum's car and go and pick him up. I get caught in the traffic, and he's already outside the station by the time I pull up beside him. He doesn't seem to see me and I realise that perhaps he doesn't realise that I drive. I lower the passenger window.

'Hey there, waiting for someone?' I say.

'Yes, I'm…fuck, Ollie…is that you?

'In person.'

'Sorry…I wasn't expecting…that is…I didn't know.'

'Sorry, I should have said.'

I get out of the car and we hug. I put his bag in the boot and drive him back to my house.

Although we live only a few miles from High Wycombe, it's deep in the countryside; it couldn't be a bigger contrast to the City surroundings where Noah lives. And though I don't live in a mansion – or anything like one – our house is detached, pretty spacious, with a nice garden and sits back from the road along with about half a dozen others in a cul-de-sac. As we pull onto the drive, Noah looks at me and says,

'This is where you live? My God, Ollie, you never told me it was like this.'

'It's just a house, Noah…nothing special.'

'I guess we have different ideas of special.'

'Noah…what you and I have is special…this is just a house. OK…it has a bit more space than your parents' place, but you'll see. It really is pretty ordinary.'

I can see something in his eyes.

'Are you OK, Noah?'

He takes a deep breath..

'Yes…yes, Ollie, I'm fine. It's just….more than I expected.'

'Why don't we go in and I'll show you round. Mum and Dad won't be back from work for ages, so we've got the place to ourselves for the afternoon.'

For the first time, I see him smile.

'It's not just the house I'm keen to explore.'

'You are a sex maniac.'

'Yeah, well…you shouldn't be so damn sexy.'

'And you shouldn't be so horny.'

'That's rich, coming from you. What was it you kept saying last time…'again please Noah' – as I recall.'

'I think you have a very selective memory.'

'You telling me you don't want to?'

'Of course I want to…I've been thinking about nothing else for four days.'

'Same here.'

We grin at each other, and then get out of the car, get his bag from the boot and walk up to the front door.

'I just need to disarm the alarm before you come in, OK?'

'Whatever you say.'

I unlock the door and immediately a continuous 'beep' starts sounding. I go to the alarm control and punch in the code. The little red light turns green and the sound stops.

'OK…all clear.'

Noah steps into the hall. He looks round.

'Well, whatever you say…this is a whole lot bigger than anywhere I've ever lived.'

'Come on, I'll give you a quick tour.'

I show him through into the kitchen/diner and then to the lounge - and it's true, they are both big rooms. Other than that, there is a study, a downstairs toilet, a small 'snug' to one side of the kitchen and, behind the kitchen, a utility room that leads out into the garden.

'It's lovely, Ollie.'

'Let's do upstairs.'

We go back out into the hall and up the stairs to the landing. To the left, at the end of the corridor is my parents' bedroom with its en-suite bathroom. Directly in front of us are two guest bedrooms and down the corridor to the right is first the main bathroom and then my bedroom which has a little shower room attached to it.

'You have a choice of where you sleep, Noah. Your own room – one of these two – or sharing my room with me.'

He gives me a withering look.

'And why would I want to be anywhere else but curled up beside you?'

'Goody. Just thought I'd check. Let me show you to your quarters, then.'

We turn right and walk down to the end of the landing and into my room.

'Wow…nice room, Ollie.'

And it is. I've made it mine over the years and I love the way it looks and feels. I'm glad Noah likes it too. I open one of the built-in wardrobe doors.

'You can put your stuff here, Noah.'

'What's through that door?' he asks, pointing to the en-suite.

'That's just got a shower and a toilet in it.'

'So let me get this right. You have a bathroom, two en-suites and a downstairs toilet…for three of you.'

'Umm…yes, I guess so.'

He shakes his head.

'You must have felt like you were really slumming when you stayed with my parents.'

I'm shocked not just at what's he's said, but at the tone of voice he's used.

'Don't be so fucking stupid Noah! Yes, this is a nice house, but do you really think that's what defines me and my values and what I care about. Did you like me more before you came here? Does the fact I live here change a single one of the fucking things you like about me? I assume you DO like some things about me? '

It's as though I've slapped him. He looks at me and then puts his hands on his head.

'I'm sorry, Ollie. Of course you're right. I suppose I'm just…jealous. Which is really immature. And no it doesn't change any of the things I like about you – which is just about everything.'

He looks so miserable. I put my arms round him and give him a hug. And the last thing I want is to fight or get his stay off on the wrong foot.

'Why don't we start this again?' I look into his eyes. He nods.

'Welcome to my room, and your home for the next two days Noah. I love you and I am so happy that you're here.'

'It's a lovely room, Ollie – and just so 'you'. I love you too and I can't wait to share the next two days with you.'

'Good. Now I'd like you to make love to me, please.'

We undress and go over to the bed. I've always had a double bed – I don't know why, but I have. The coverlet is blue silk, which we pull off; the duvet follows, and we lie, facing each other, on the white cotton sheet. Noah kisses me and runs a hand down the length of my chest and stomach, then takes hold of my achingly hard erection.

'I've missed this,' he says.

I've already wrapped my hand around his equally steely cock, and we stroke each other.

'I want to taste you, Ollie.'

'Let's do it to each other.'

He swivels round until our heads are in each other's groins - and then we do what we do best. It doesn't take long – we're both so ready - and then he comes back up and kisses me. I can taste myself in his mouth. I want more.

'And now, Noah, I'd like you to fuck me.'

So he does. Gently and lovingly until the moment before his climax when he drives deep and hard into me. It feels wonderful.

With our immediate need for each other satisfied, we just lie beside one another.

'I think we can say that this bed has now been well and truly christened. And though that's the first time sex has taken place in it, I sincerely hope that it won't be the last.'

'You better believe it, Ollie.'

Noah stretches out.

'This is a really comfortable mattress, Ollie. We're going to be spoiled for anything else. In fact, how the hell do you cope with the college mattresses?'

'Mine's not too bad, Noah, but you're right, this one's really good.'

'What time will your folks be back?'

I glance at the clock. 'Not for hours yet.'

'I don't suppose you'd like to….'

'I think I could be persuaded,' I say.

Noah rolls over on top of me before sitting up, straddling me. He guides me into him and rides me. Enthusiastically. Needless to say, he's fully-aroused again and I stroke him. To our pleasure, we climax virtually simultaneously.

'God I love having sex with you, Ollie,' he says, as he rolls off me.

'Likewise. Very muchly.'

'Very muchly??' queries Noah, a big smile on his lips.

'Umm…yes. Sorry. Family phrase.'

'I like it 'very muchly',' he says with a grin.

I look down. My chest is splattered with Noah's seed and we've both worked up a bit of a sweat.

'Shower time,' I say.

I've already put two big, fluffy towels on the heated rail in the en-suite, and, after we've washed away all the traces of our love-making, we sit back on the bed, wrapped in them.

'I could get used to this,' says Noah.

'Good. Because I hope we'll spend a lot of time doing just this over the coming years.'

'I like the sound of that.'

We stretch out and just cuddle up for a while. Our fingers drift idly over one another, and we exchange the occasional kiss. It is good to be together again.

Eventually I say: 'This is lovely, Noah, but I'm hungry.'

'Me too, though I'm sure I can't imagine why…'

We collect up our clothes and get dressed, then go downstairs to the kitchen. I take two pizzas out of the freezer and turn the oven on. I open a couple of beers, wait 'til the oven's up to temperature and then put the pizzas in. Fifteen minutes later they're ready. I cut them into slices, put them on plates and give one of the plates to Noah. We take them through into the snug and eat them on our laps. We demolish them in no time at all.

'That was great, Ollie. I feel restored. Very muchly.' He grins.

I give him a look.

'Good. We usually don't have supper until quite late, so I hope that will keep you going.'

Noah looks out through the doors that open up into the garden.

'I wish we had a garden…it looks so beautiful.'

'Come on, I'll show you round.'

We put the plates into the dishwasher, and then go back through the snug and out into the garden. Directly outside the doors is a patio where we have BBQs in the summer. In front of the patio is the lawn - which my father is obsessive about. He weeds, feeds, aerates, and top dresses it. My mother says it gets more care and attention than she does. And it does look lovely; green and weed-free even at this time of year. The flower beds are well-tended by the gardener who comes in for three hours a week, and there are a nice selection of shrubs and trees along the sides that provide shelter for the plants and prevent us from being overlooked. At the bottom of the garden there is a fruit-cage and, opposite it, a summer house with a pine-clad extension off to one side. I open the door of the summer house and we go inside. In the extension there's a table-tennis table.

'Do you play table tennis, Noah?'

'Yeah…I do, actually. It's one of the few things that we had in the church hall at home.'

'Fancy a game?'

'Why not.'

There are four bats on one of the shelves, and, beside them a box of balls. My friend Paul is a very useful TT player, and he and I have played a lot over the years. I'm not in his league, but I can avoid being too badly beaten - on a good day.

It turns out that Noah can play a bit, too. In fact, he's pretty good. In the best of three, I lose 2-1.

'Another hidden talent, I see,' I observe.

'Well…I was the inter-youth club finalist in our area a couple of times when I was fourteen and fifteen, but I haven't played much since.'

'You must meet my friend Paul. I think that would be a game worth watching.'

'Great. I'd like to meet your friends, Ollie.'

'We'll try and arrange it while you're here…if not, then next time.'

'Another go?'

We play again and rather lose track of time. In the end, we are both surprised when my mother pokes her head round the door.

'So this is where you are.'

'Oh, hi Mum. Sorry. We just got sort of engrossed. This is Noah. Noah…my mum.'

Noah comes over and holds out his hand.

'I'm very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Peters.'

'Likewise, Noah. There's no hurry, boys, but when you're ready, there's a drink for you up at the house – and your father's home as well, Ollie.'

'OK, Mum…thanks.'

She shuts the door and starts to walk back up to the house.

'Come on, Ollie…let's go up now. It would be rude to keep your parents waiting,' says Noah.

'OK.'

We follow my mother up the path and back into the house. Dad is sitting in the lounge looking at the television, G&T in hand, when Noah and I enter. He stands up.

'Hi, Ollie …and this must be Noah.'

'Hi Dad, yes. Noah…my father.'

They shake hands.

'Pleased to meet you, Noah.'

'You, too, sir.'

'Oh, please…Martin is fine. Enjoying Uni?'

'Very much. And meeting Ollie has made it even better.'

'From hearing Ollie talk about you – virtually non-stop - over the past few days, I'm sure the same goes for him as well.'

There's cricket playing on the television. England against South Africa. My father is a cricket nut. There's a loud shout. Dad turns.

'Excellent. Got another one out.'

He turns back to Noah. 'Do you follow cricket?'

'Oh give him a break Dad, he's only been here two minutes and you're on your favourite topic.'

To my immense surprise, however, Noah says,

'Actually I do. My father is a huge cricket fan and I've sort of inherited it. Living where we do, getting to the Oval or Lords is easy so I get the chance to watch it live as well as watching it on TV. I think I was taken to my first game when I was about eight. I follow Surrey.'

'Do you indeed? I'm a bit of a Somerset man myself, having been born down there, but it's good to know you're a fellow cricket lover. Been following the Test?'

'Yes…although I haven't seen much of it today, what with travelling down here.'

And what with not having mentioned you like cricket to me and what with having spent several hours in bed, I'm thinking. With Dad and Noah now in the depths of a cricketing conversation, I go and find my mother.

'Need a hand with anything for dinner, Mum?'

'No, that's OK, Ollie - but thanks for asking. Noah and your father seem to be getting on well.'

'I had no idea Noah was a cricket fan.'

'Well, there's a lot to learn about each other when you first go out with someone. '

'I guess so.'

'You really like him, don't you?'

'Is it that obvious?'

'It's just the way you look at each other. It's lovely, Ollie.'

'Look, Mum…I know that, well, he's my first...boyfriend…and that I've only just come out and all that…but I love him, Mum. Am I being stupid? Is it just because he's the first? Does it all seem more than it really is?'

'I can't pretend that your father and I haven't worried about that, Ollie, and I suppose, statistically, that the chance of your first boyfriend being THE one are slim…but that doesn't mean it can't happen. And he does seem very nice. Is he very…experienced?'

'No. Not really. He was seduced at sixteen – I don't think that counted as a boyfriend for him - and he had a brief affair with another boy a few months before he came up to Uni…but they broke up because he said that, in the end, it was just about sex.'

'And it definitely isn't just about…sex…with you two?'

'Muuuuum!!'

'Sorry, darling, it's none of my business…but if he broke up with someone because 'just sex' wasn't enough, then I think that's a good sign. And I assume that means that what you two have is about more than just sex too.'

'Yes. It is. Definitely…not that the sex isn't bloody wonderful.'

I say this last with a bit of a grin. I want to see what effect it has.

'Thank you Ollie! Too much information.'

'Sorry, Mum.'

'That's OK. Your father and I were in the sack pretty soon after we met, as I recall.'

This time she's shocked me. And she knows it. And that's why she said it. And that's one of the reasons I get on so well with her. At this point my father comes into the kitchen to refill his drink. He does so and pours another – for Noah I assume.

'What a very nice young man Noah is,' says my father.

'I'm pleased you like him,' I say.

'Charming, knowledgeable and a cricket fan. I'd say you've made a good choice, Ollie.'

'I'd say he's got you round his little finger,' I mutter, under my breath.

'Sorry, Ollie?'

'Nothing, Dad,'

But I can see my mother smiling.

'G&T for you too, Ollie?'

'Yes please, dad.'

He pours me a drink, and then gets a bottle of white wine out of the fridge and tops up my mother's glass. I follow him back into the lounge. There are two former England cricket captains talking on the television, so I assume that play has now finished for the day.

'I didn't know you were a cricket fan, Noah.'

'I suppose it just never came up,' he says. 'Maybe it's because it's this time of year; in the summer you'd have known all right.'

'Do you play?' asks my father.

'A little,' Noah replies, 'but not to any great standard. And you?'

'Oh, I play some local village cricket in the summer, but nothing serious.'

This is an outright lie. Dad is not only a good cricketer, he's the Captain of the local Sunday league team, and he takes it pretty seriously.

'Umm…that's not quite true, is it Dad,' I venture.

'Well…it's only the Sunday league.'

'Dad's the Captain, and they won their league last year.'

'Wow…that's impressive,' says Noah, with just the right amount of flattery in his voice, 'do you bat or bowl?'

'I keep wicket…and bat a bit, too.'

'Dad has the best batting average in the side,' I say.

'You must take me along to watch in the summer, Ollie,' says Noah.

I give him a look. He smiles at me. He knows exactly what he's doing. Meanwhile Dad is quietly loving it.

'You'd be most welcome, Noah. Perhaps you'd turn out for us if we were short?'

Noah realises it's time to beat something of a retreat.

'Oh, I don't think I'd be up to that standard.'

'Oh well…but you be sure to bring him along, Ollie.'

'Of course, Dad.'

Before things get awkward, Mum comes in and announces that dinner is ready. It's lasagne – one of my favourites.

'I hope this is alright for you, Noah…I did ask Ollie if there was anything you didn't eat, but he said he thought this would be OK.'

'It's perfect thank you, Mrs. Peters.'

'Good…and please, call me Pamela.'

Mum bombards Noah with questions during the meal, but they are good-natured and Noah is polite and occasionally funny - and exudes the effortless charm that is just one of the reasons I love him. I can see Mum visibly relax. The lasagne is excellent. Mum's done some garlic bread and a green salad to go with it. Noah and I both have second helpings. Dad's opened a bottle of Chianti to go with it, and to follow, there's ice cream.

'Thank you, Pamela,' says Noah, 'if that's what Ollie gets to eat every day, I've no idea how he manages to stay in such good shape.'

'Thank you, Noah, but I know you teenage boys burn off the calories one way and another.'

I look across at her. I don't think she was suggesting what I thought she might have been – but I can't be totally sure. We clear away the plates and Mum and Dad announce that they are going to watch TV in the lounge. I suggest to Noah we take over the snug and watch a film.

'Sounds good to me Ollie.'

We have a huge range of films that we've acquired over the years. I tell Noah to choose. He picks Deadpool 2, which suits me. It's fun as well as being full of action. Dad puts his head round the door and tells us to help ourselves to a beer if we want one. I go and get a couple of Peronis out of the fridge. By the time I'm back, Noah has set the Blu-ray player up and paused the disc at the start of the movie. He's sitting at one end of the big, squishy sofa and I cuddle up next to him.

After about twenty minutes, we've finished our beers and I ask Noah if it's OK to lay across him with my head in his lap.

'Sure, Ollie.'

And that's how we watch the rest of the film. Noah occasionally runs his hand through my hair - and I think I've never been happier. I relax – and the effect of the food, the wine, our earlier sex and Noah's fingers mean I doze off.

I come to with Noah gently shaking my shoulder. My mother is at the door.

'Night, boys. We're off to bed.'

'Oh, OK…night Mum.'

'Goodnight, Pamela – and thank you again for a lovely meal,' says Noah.

'Our pleasure, Noah. Ollie, we'll be off to work early but there's no rush for you two to get up. Sleep well.'

She shuts the door and I hear them both going up the stairs.

'I think we should call it a night too, sleepyhead.'

'Did I miss much?' I ask.

'I think you were out after about forty minutes. Come on. Let's go to bed.'

'You say the nicest things.'

We pour ourselves a glass of water each and then follow my parents upstairs. We shut the bedroom door behind us and I sit on the edge of the bed, yawning. Noah takes off his clothes and I can't help but watch. His smooth, dark, lightly-muscled form emerges as his shirt and then his chinos are folded neatly on the back of a chair. He turns his back to me as slips off his briefs and socks, his perfect bottom facing straight towards me. He turns, and languidly runs a hand down the length of his cock before walking over to the bed and slipping under the covers. Despite my tiredness, I can feel my arousal.

'You coming to bed, Ollie?'

I nod and get up. I put my shirt and trousers over Noah's on the chair before shucking off my briefs and socks. I turn. I am half-hard. I go over to the opposite side of the bed and slide in beside Noah. He puts his arms round me. I can feel that he, too, is aroused, his hardness pressing against my thigh. He slips a hand down into my groin and takes hold of me.

'I'd love to, Noah…but I'm so tired.'

'That's fine, Ollie.'

He gives me a squeeze before removing his hand.

'It's been a wonderful day - and I really like your parents.'

'And they really like you, Noah. And you know just what to say.'

'Sleep tight, Ollie. I love you.'

'I love you too, Noah.'

He kisses me - and I'm out like light.

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