Sunday - December 7th
Winter had settled in. Three weeks had passed, and everything felt… strangely the same.
Noah surfaced slowly. Something warm pressed against his cheek—soft, persistent.
His eyes opened. Atlas's mouth was there, moving slow across his cheekbone.
"Morning, love."
Noah's lips curved before he was fully awake. "Morning, handsome."
Atlas pulled back. His eyes were bright, but underneath—something else. Something Noah couldn't name. "If you want to spend your birthday in bed, I can make that work."
Noah grabbed his shirt and hauled him down. Kissed him properly—deep, thorough. Trying to erase whatever that look was.
When they broke apart, Atlas was grinning. "So what do you want to do today?"
"Before or after the party?"
"We could skip it." Atlas's thumb traced Noah's jaw. His touch lingered longer than usual.
"After." Noah kissed him quick. "Let's do something after."
"Made you breakfast." Another kiss. Light. Almost careful.
"Could get used to this." Noah's hands slid up Atlas's chest.
"Don't." But Atlas was smiling.
"Because it's my first birthday with you?"
"You'll have to wait a year to find out." Atlas grabbed his hand and pulled him up.
---
They came downstairs. Sunny barking at their heels, Luna following at a more dignified pace.
Noah stopped in the kitchen doorway.
Morning light poured through the windows—winter-pale, washing everything gold. The table was set. A small cake sat in the center—chocolate, "23" written in white icing. Candles ready.
His throat got tight.
Atlas moved past him and lit the candles. The tiny flames wavered in the draft from the heating vent. "Make a wish."
Noah closed his eyes.
Let us keep loving each other like this.
The wish felt heavier than it should. Like he was asking for something impossible.
He blew out the candles. Smoke curled up, disappearing.
Noah wrapped his arms around Atlas and kissed him. "Best birthday."
"Happy birthday." Atlas kissed him back. Slow. Deep. When he pulled away, his eyes stayed closed for an extra beat. "Anything you want today. I'm yours."
"Just today?" Noah licked his bottom lip. Deliberate.
They both cracked up, but the laughter died too quick. Left something awkward in its wake.
"You're dangerous," Atlas said quietly.
---
They were eating when Lydia walked in, hair piled on top of her head, wearing one of Noah's old hoodies.
"Morning."
"Morning," they said together.
Lydia poured coffee. "Why are you guys awake? It's Sunday."
"No reason," Noah said.
Lydia's eyes landed on the cake. The candles. The "23."
She shrieked. "It's December seventh!" Lunged at Noah and hugged him tight. "Happy birthday!"
"Thanks—can't breathe—"
She let go and sat down with her coffee. Grinned. "So what's the plan?"
"You coming?" Noah asked.
"God, no." She laughed. "I'd rather eat glass than spend my Sunday with those people. No offense."
Atlas's hand was moving on Noah's back. Slow circles. They kept catching each other's eyes. Smiling for no reason.
Lydia stood. "I'm leaving you two alone. Remember this favor."
She grabbed her coffee and left.
Noah turned to Atlas and pulled him close. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Everything."
Atlas kissed him. Soft. Almost tentative. "I should be thanking you."
"Stay on the yacht tonight?" Noah asked. "After?"
"Yeah." Atlas's voice was rough. "We can do that."
---
After breakfast, Noah checked his phone. Messages from his mom, Marcus, Jared, Elias, Clara. Group chats. All birthday wishes.
He answered them while Atlas cleaned up. The domesticity of it—Atlas rinsing dishes, Noah texting on the couch with Sunny in his lap—felt too good. Too fragile.
Atlas came up behind him. Arms around his waist. "Shower. Then we'll get ready."
Noah kissed his cheek. "Let's go." He grabbed Atlas's arm.
Atlas pulled him back and kissed his neck. Once. Slow. His lips stayed there longer than necessary.
They headed upstairs.
"What'd you wish for?" Atlas asked.
Noah laughed, but it came out hollow. "I forgot."
"I'll remind you in the shower."
"Not possible."
At the bedroom door, Atlas kicked it shut and pulled Noah against him. "Let me try."
He kissed him hard. Thorough. Desperate in a way Noah couldn't explain.
Eventually they made it to the shower.
---
Water beat down hot. Steam rose, fogging the glass.
Atlas backed Noah against the tile. The cold ceramic made Noah gasp.
"Been thinking about this all morning," Atlas murmured against his mouth.
"Yeah?" Noah's hands slid down Atlas's wet chest.
"Yeah." Atlas kissed down his jaw. His neck. Bit down gently where neck met shoulder.
Noah's head fell back. "Atlas—"
"Tell me what you want." Atlas's hand moved down Noah's stomach. Slow. Teasing.
"You." Noah pulled him closer. "Just you."
They kissed under the water. Hands everywhere. Learning each other again like it was the first time.
Atlas dropped to his knees. Water streaming over his shoulders. Looked up at Noah.
"Okay?" he asked.
Noah nodded. Couldn't speak.
Atlas took his time. Slow. Deliberate. Using his tongue in ways that made Noah's knees buckle.
"Fuck—" Noah's hand fisted in Atlas's wet hair.
Atlas pulled off. Kissed up his body. "Not yet."
He stood and spun Noah around. Pressed him face-first against the tile.
"This okay?" His mouth was right by Noah's ear.
"Yes—god, yes—"
Atlas's hand moved between them. Fingers gentle. Patient. Preparing him with water-slick touches.
When he finally pushed in, they both groaned.
"Okay?" Atlas's voice was wrecked.
"Move."
Atlas did. Slow strokes that built into something desperate. One hand braced on the wall beside Noah's head. The other wrapped around him, stroking in time.
"I love you," Atlas said against Noah's shoulder. "Love you so fucking much."
"I know—I know—" Noah could barely get the words out.
They moved together. Water beating down. Steam thick around them. Everything else disappearing.
They stayed like that. Connected. Both breathing hard. Water turning lukewarm.
Finally Atlas pulled out carefully. Turned Noah around and kissed him. Soft. Sweet.
"Happy birthday," he murmured.
Noah laughed. Shaky. "Best present."
---
When they emerged, towels wrapped low on their hips, water still dripping, they wiped the mirror's steam.
Stood there. Just looking at each other.
Noah couldn't stop staring. The way Atlas's hair fell dark and wet. The water trailing down his chest. The way he was looking back—like Noah was something precious. Something fragile.
Atlas came up behind him. Arms circling his waist. Kissed his shoulder.
I'm happy when I'm with you.
The thought came unbidden. Warm.
Then something else. Sharp. Unexpected.
Pain. Right in his chest. Like something was already breaking.
What if ?
Noah turned and pulled Atlas into a hug. Held on tight.
Atlas held him back. Surprised. Kissed his wet hair. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Noah's voice came out rough. Muffled against Atlas's neck.
I'm okay. We're okay. Nothing's wrong.
---
They moved to the dressing room. Late morning light filtered through the windows. Cold. Clear. December light that made everything sharp-edged.
Atlas buttoned Noah's shirt for him. Slow. Careful. His fingers lingered on each button.
Then he reached into the closet and pulled out a small box.
"This is for you."
Noah took it. Opened it.
Patek Philippe. Rose gold. The face was deep blue with subtle complications. Classic. Elegant. Probably cost more than Noah's car.
He couldn't breathe for a second.
"I can't accept this." He looked up at Atlas.
"Why not?"
"It's too much." Noah tried to find words that wouldn't sound ungrateful. "Atlas—"
"It's not." Atlas smiled, but his eyes were too bright. "We'll wear matching ones."
"If my dad sees this—"
"Tell him it's a gift."
"He'll know who it's from." Noah laughed despite himself.
Atlas took the watch and fastened it around Noah's wrist. His fingers shook slightly. He kissed Noah's pulse point. "There."
"Thank you." Noah studied it. Then looked up. "I'll wear it when I'm with you."
Atlas's face did something. Soft. Pleased. Sad.
They finished getting ready. Left the room.
---
Lydia saw them in the hallway and started laughing. "Your tuxes match. Very subtle."
Atlas grinned.
"You look good though." She pulled out her phone and started taking photos. "God, you're perfect together. It's disgusting."
"Tonight we're out," Noah said. "Take care of Sunny and Luna. Call if you need anything."
"Have fun." Lydia waved them off. Then, quieter: "Love you."
Noah stopped. Turned back. "Love you too."
Something passed between them. Lydia's smile faltered for just a second.
---
In the car, Atlas held Noah's hand. The leather interior smelled like expensive cologne and winter air.
They talked about Christmas break. Where to go. What to do. But underneath, both their voices had that careful quality. Like they were trying too hard to sound normal.
Noah kept pulling out his phone. Taking photos of Atlas when he wasn't looking. The way afternoon light caught his profile. The way his jaw set when he concentrated on driving.
Atlas glanced over. "You said you deleted those."
Noah's grin turned mischievous. "Should I ask permission?"
"You're gonna delete them anyway."
"Maybe I don't delete them." Noah's voice went innocent. Playful.
Atlas's eyes found his. Heated. "Maybe?"
Noah just smiled.
Atlas's hand moved to Noah's thigh. Squeezed. Started moving in slow circles. Possessive.
"Maybe someday I'll show you the ones I kept," Noah said. Quiet. Almost shy.
Atlas laughed. Full. Delighted. His grip tightened. "Can't wait."
But when he looked back at the road, his smile faded too quick.
---
They pulled up to the venue. Handed the keys to the valet.
The building was all glass and steel. Modern. Expensive. Cold.
Inside, the space opened up. High ceilings. Soft jazz played—piano in the back, gentle saxophone up front. Just loud enough to fill the silence but not intrude on conversation.
Women wore dark dresses. Black, navy, deep green. Expensive fabrics that whispered when they moved. Minimal jewelry—one statement piece each. Nothing garish.
Men in identical tuxedos. Only the cut and posture distinguished them. Some comfortable in their skin. Some stiff. Some wearing that I'm here because I have to be look.
Waiters moved like ghosts. Drinks appeared. Disappeared. Appetizers on small plates.
Conversations stayed low. Business. Family. Names everyone knew. "The Morrison deal." "Did you hear about the Vanderbilt acquisition?" "Where are you going this year?" Classic old money small talk. No one saying anything real. Everyone performing.
Some of Atlas's friends came over. Introduced themselves to Noah. They talked about work. Plans. Surface things.
Alice and Sienna appeared.
Hugs all around.
Atlas's hand kept finding Noah's back. Brief touches. Grounding. But also—checking. Making sure Noah was still there.
Noah moved closer to Sienna. "Good to see you."
"You too." She smiled. "Happy birthday."
"Thanks." Noah glanced at Alice. "Thanks for coming."
Atlas caught Noah's eye. Winked. But it didn't quite reach his eyes.
Charles showed up. They talked for a bit. Then Charles, Alice, and Atlas stepped out to the balcony.
Noah watched them go. That feeling in his chest again. Tighter.
"How's Lydia?" Sienna asked.
"Shopping constantly for the Italy trip."
"Why'd you guys cancel?"
"If my dad finds out..." Noah trailed off. Watched the room. All these people. All these eyes.
Sienna's voice dropped. "He still doesn't know?"
"No. We're trying to be careful." His tone went flat. Resigned. "It's exhausting."
"Better he doesn't."
"Yeah." But Noah didn't sound convinced.
Charles, Alice, and Atlas came back. Atlas's jaw was tight. Charles was saying something about the London expansion.
"Expecting you all for dinner this week," Charles said.
Noah looked at Atlas. Atlas smiled, but it was strained.
"Okay," Noah said.
"See you then." Charles left.
Atlas's hand settled on Noah's back. "Bored?"
"No." Noah smiled.
Atlas leaned close. His breath warm against Noah's ear. "You're a terrible liar."
More of Atlas's friends came over. Alice and Sienna pulled Noah toward the balcony. They grabbed champagne on the way.
Outside, the air was cold. Sharp. December wind cutting through fabric.
"I love cold air," Alice said. She leaned into Sienna.
Noah watched them. The easy way they fit together. Smiled, but it hurt.
"Happy birthday," Alice said.
"Thanks."
"You guys have plans?" Sienna asked.
"Just spending time together." Noah's smile went soft.
Atlas appeared. Came up close—too close for this crowd. His hand found Noah's waist.
Noah's heart jumped. He glanced around. A few people were looking. Pretending not to.
Atlas's hand moved on his back while they talked. Light. Possessive. Claiming him in front of everyone.
"We can leave whenever," Atlas said quietly.
Noah's face warmed. "Yeah. Let's go."
They said goodbye to Alice and Sienna.
As they walked out, Noah felt eyes following them. Whispers starting.
Neither of them looked back.
---
The valet brought the car. They drove to the marina in silence.
Not the comfortable kind. The kind where both people are thinking too much.
Walking toward the yacht, Atlas took Noah's hand.
Noah looked at him. Smiled.
A few people passed. Stared openly. One man's expression went cold. Contemptuous.
Atlas's grip tightened. Pulled Noah closer.
Neither of them cared. Or they pretended not to.
At the yacht, Atlas stopped. "When I call you, come upstairs. Close your eyes."
Noah's expression went curious. Amused. "Okay."
Atlas disappeared. Footsteps on the deck above. Movement. Something scraping.
He came back a few minutes later and put his hands over Noah's eyes as they climbed.
Noah's heart was racing. Excited. Nervous.
At the top, Atlas leaned close. Whispered against his ear. "Open."
Noah opened his eyes.
Candles everywhere. Dozens of them. Votives. Pillars. Tea lights. Their flames dancing in the ocean wind. Roses scattered across the deck. Heart-shaped balloons tied to the railing.
The city glittered behind them. Water lapped against the hull. Stars were just starting to appear.
His face went hot. He turned and pulled Atlas into a kiss—deep, desperate, trying to say everything he couldn't articulate.
"I don't know if it's too cliche," Atlas said when they broke apart. "I looked it up online—"
"No." Noah's eyes were bright. Too bright. "It's perfect."
They kissed again. Harder. Noah's hands fisted in Atlas's jacket.
They moved to the table Atlas had set up. Small chocolate cake with candles in the center. The same "23" from this morning.
Atlas lit them. The tiny flames wavered. "Make another wish."
Noah closed his eyes.
Let us keep this. Please. Whatever happens. Let us keep this.
He blew them out.
Atlas came up behind him. Arms wrapping around. "Happy birthday."
"Happy I have you in my life." Noah's voice cracked slightly.
He turned and buried his face in Atlas's shoulder.
Atlas held him. Tight. His own hands were shaking. "You really like it?"
"Yeah." Noah didn't lift his head. Couldn't.
Both their hearts were pounding. Too fast. Like they were running from something.
"Can we stay like this a minute?" Noah asked.
"Yeah." Atlas's fingers moved through Noah's hair.
Noah tried to control it. The tears. The feeling that was swelling in his chest—too big, too sharp. Couldn't.
Atlas felt him shake. Didn't say anything. Just held on. "I love you."
His own eyes burned. Tears came. Silent. Sliding down his face into Noah's hair.
Why does this feel like goodbye? Nothing's wrong. We're fine. So why—
They stood there. Holding each other. Both crying quietly. Neither understanding why.
Like they were both mourning something that hadn't happened yet.
Atlas pulled back and grabbed napkins from the table. Handed them over.
When they separated, both their eyes were red. Wet.
They laughed. Embarrassed. Trying to break the tension.
Took off their jackets. Bow ties. Opened the first few buttons. The formality dissolving.
Sat down to eat.
Acted like nothing happened. Flirted. Laughed. But it was too loud. Too forced.
Atlas's hand stayed on Noah. Always touching. Anchoring. Noah leaned into him between bites. Seeking contact.
They talked about future plans. Trips. Events coming up. But every sentence felt weighted. Like they were trying to conjure a future they weren't sure existed.
The champagne loosened them both. They ignored the feeling they couldn't name. Drank more. Talked louder.
Noah kissed Atlas. Slow at first. Then deeper. Desperate.
"Want to go to the bedroom?" Atlas asked against his mouth.
"Yeah."
---
In the bedroom, they kissed while fumbling with buttons. Shirts coming off. Skin finally meeting skin.
Atlas backed Noah toward the bed. They fell together. Tangled.
No urgency this time. Just slow, deliberate touches. Like they were trying to memorize each other.
Atlas kissed down Noah's chest. His stomach. Lower.
"Atlas—"
"Let me." Atlas looked up at him. His eyes were dark. Intense.
Noah nodded.
Atlas took his time. Used his mouth. His hands. Took Noah apart piece by piece until Noah was shaking. Gasping his name.
When he finally pushed inside him, they both went still.
"Okay?" Atlas's voice was wrecked.
"Yeah. Don't stop."
They moved together. Slow. Deep. Atlas's forehead pressed to Noah's. Their breathing synced.
Noah pulled him down. Kissed him through the tears that were falling again.
They came together. Holding on too tight. Like letting go meant losing everything.
---
After, they collapsed on the bed. Tangled together. Sweat cooling. Hearts still racing.
Atlas pulled Noah close. Tucked him against his chest.
They lay there. Staring at the ceiling. The room was dark except for moonlight through the windows. Water sounds outside. Distant city hum.
Noah felt it again. That tightness in his chest. That unnamed fear.
What could happen? Nothing's wrong. We're fine.
Atlas turned. Met his eyes. "I love you. Don't forget that."
"I love you too."
"You said it like goodbye." Noah tried to smile. Couldn't quite manage it.
Atlas held him tighter. His grip almost painful. "Just making sure you don't forget."
Noah's hands pressed against Atlas's chest. Over his heart. "You don't forget either."
"I won't." Atlas kissed his forehead. His eyes. His mouth. "I promise."
They fell asleep like that. Still holding on. Still not understanding why it felt like they were running out of time.
Outside, the ocean moved. Endless. Indifferent.
Inside, they held each other and pretended tomorrow would look like today.
But some part of them—the part that made them cry without knowing why—already knew better.