Noah's Starship Ch. 02

+{Noah's Starship}+

-+-[July]-+-

"Noah! I take that!" Navid took the bag from me as we walked across the steamy cement to the boat landing. He kissed my forehead as he slid the bag from my fingers. I'd taken it from the backseat of his car as he made his way around to open my door. It was my way of showing I didn't need him treating me like a damsel. He seemed slightly annoyed at my gesture.

"We will be on water for a few hours so please go to pee here now," He said as we paused by a set of public restrooms. I followed him inside and he pointed towards the private stalls, but I joined him at the urinals along the wall which had little dividers between them.

"You prefer to use these?" he asked with surprise.

"Yeah, I'm... a guy," I said softly. It was awkward peeing next to him. We hadn't done that before. He kept his eyes on me and it made it difficult at first. I started to wish I had gone inside one of the stalls, but finally I was able to start as he was shaking off the last of his.

"You suck on your lip when you piss," he noted with that smile that said I fascinated him.

"I do? I guess it helps me concentrate when a hot guy is staring at me," I smiled and tried to look away.

We were the last to arrive to the small boat that was kind of like a long table surrounded by a U-shaped bench along the insides of a white shell with a white covering over it. It was filled with 10 guys; some that I recognized and others that I didn't.

The sun was setting over Alamitos Bay as the cool, Pacific breeze swept in. Aram and Bashir were seated on the end of one side and they jumped up with smiles to let us slide in. Navid went in next to another Persian looking guy I didn't know and then pulled me in close to his side as he greeted the other men on the boat. Aram squeezed in next to me and said something to Navid without acknowledging me.

I was starting to get used to being a silent guest among a group of Persian men. I didn't feel unwelcome and always jumped at the chance to be under Navid's arm, but they didn't speak in English to accommodate me. I was not their equal.

Navid always looked over to check on me every few minutes, but never apologized for me being left out. This was how things were done in his culture. Sometimes it was just a winking smile and other times he would whisper something sweet in English or offer me a game on his phone. He never said it, but he made it clear he expected me to only communicate with him. It was how things were done. I was not part of the group, but belonged to him.

I watched the seabirds swoon down to check out something on the dock and then fly off in uniform urgency as the group of men buzzed on in what sounded like a raucous set of jokes. An older, hispanic man in a tight polo shirt that held in his ample gut as it spilled over his waistline came aboard then and asked if we were all here.

He gave us a speech about boat safety and showed Bashir how to work the wheel and accelerate. He pointed out the life preservers packed neatly under our seats and then did a quick lecture about drinking responsibly on the water. He showed us a timer that would beep when we we had fifteen minutes to bring the boat back, and then untied us from the dock and got off. He pushed out boat out into the open water and waved goodbye.

Bashir navigated us through the small canals of Naples as the two other non-Persian guys on the boat arose and began to unpack the food. The table soon filled with trays of bakery items, meats, side dishes, and desserts. It hit me that I was non-Persian as well and I tugged at Navid's shirt and asked if I should help them. Was serving something the silent partners did?

"No, my princess, we are guests of this group." Navid whispered to me. He swiped a finger under my chin and looked at me with a smile like I'd just done or said something unbearably cute. He had started calling me princess. It bothered me somewhat because I am definitely a male with no plans to change that. But I didn't want to do anything that could change that look of adoration he gave me when he said it. Maybe over time he would move on to another nickname.

And so I sat there under his arm as the non-Persians worked and the other men carried on in conversation. They weren't that old, maybe 30-ish. One was white and the other was kind of white-hispanic looking. They definitely looked gay and had trim bodies that looked like a routine of gym, salon, and shopping. They wore semi-preppy older guy attire; polo shirts tucked into chino shorts with nice belts. Each was attached to an older Persian man, one looked almost 50 but in terrific shape.

Navid and I, along with Aram, Bashir and two other guys, were the younger generation on the boat. Then there were the two mixed-raced couples and then another two unattached Persian guys who looked to be mid-30's.

I watched the sun set behind the tightly-packed million-dollar townhouses that lined the canals as they came alive with parties for the evening. We passed other boats like ours, mostly upper-income looking families and one boat loaded with old gays. It was so beautiful to be there under Navid's arm, his hand rubbing my forearm as plates were passed and food was served.

Navid took his arm away as he reached for the stack of plastic plates. He only took one though and then passed it on to Aram on my other side. He lifted off the bench to load the plate with meats, rice and some weird looking bread pocket things. He grabbed a fork and napkin and then settled in with his plate.

"I don't have a plate. Do I wait until you finish? I don't know how this works," I whispered to Navid; thinking he had forgotten me.

"You are my younger one. I feed you. It is how we do this. The stronger one feeds the weaker." He turned to me with soft eyes and scooped up some rice.

I started to ask what he meant by that, but I already knew. He thought of me as "the weaker." I guess compared to him, I was. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't weak and could eat on my own. But every time I had a thought like that, my need for him overrode it. Sometimes the heart is stronger than the brain; love beats pride.

"Do you know what any of this is, Noah?" He asked with a laugh.

"No, but I'm kinda hungry," I frowned.

"I will guide you through it then. You will like it. Lot of new meat for you to try. I show you how to enjoy." Navid winked at me.

"You are my meat sherpa?" I tried to make a joke.

"What's this mean?" he scrunched up his nose at me.

"Sherpa. It was in a story I read. They are like people in the mountains who know dangerous areas and get paid to lead people through them safely," I explained and realized it wasn't as funny as it had sounded in my head.

He thought about that for a minute and then shook his head in approval.

"How much you pay me for services of sherpa? This is not done for free, no?" he lifted a forkful of something that smelled really good and looked like a yellowish rice.

"I have no money sir. I'm poor and hungry." I said with overly dramatic sorrow. His face softened into a smile of pity and he lifted the fork to my lips.

"This is chicken with cherry and the rice," he said as I opened my mouth. I immediately closed it and backed away.

"Cherries in chicken? For reals? Wait! Please start with something easy." I backed away.

"You will eat and you will love, my Noah. Is the favorite thing my mother cooked for me when I was home. You trust the no-charge sherpa!," he pushed the fork at me insistently.

I closed my eyes and opened my mouth. He shoved the fork in and I chewed it for a few seconds as the new flavors hit me. It was completely weird but so good. I quickly swallowed the sample.

"Oh that is really good!" I said excitedly after finishing. He was finishing his own bite and nodded at me happily.

"I sherpa you good! Yes, Noah Kinney?" Navid laughed and looked around his plate for the next item he wanted me to try.

"Oh, Peroshki! This is meat and things inside. Very mild, you will enjoy," he said and picked up a little foldover pastry.

He lifted it to my lips and I decided to trust him again. I was rewarded with a bite of delicious. It was again unlike anything I'd tried before and I swallowed with a smile. We went through the rest of the plate like that until I couldn't eat another bite. Navid was disappointed and commented that I never ate enough, but he finished the plate and then helped himself to seconds.

The best part was having his complete focus and attention. We'd spent almost every school night together in my room, but something about being on a boat in the sunset with his friends and food and his eyes on me had my chest filled with butterflies.

He finished eating and then passed his plate down to the trash bag at the end of the table. Bashir had settled the boat out in the middle of the bay which was quickly filling up with other boaters getting ready to watch the fireworks.

Navid took his arm from around me and reached for one of the bags we had brought. He pulled out a small paper box that looked like a mini version of one of those chinese take-out containers you see in movies. It was folded securely and had "Happy Birthday" written on the side of it.

"Whose birthday is it?" I asked and looked around the table for a cake.

"It is for you," he smiled as he held it up to me in his palm.

"My birthday was in February," I thought back to my party where Erik had tried to get me alcohol, but my dad hadn't left us alone the entire night.

"It is your country's birthday, Noah Kinney! July the 4th. You should know these things as US native!" Navid shook his head with frustration.

"I know, but uh... But why give me the gift?" I bit my lip in anticipation.

"It is my culture's tradition to give gift to favorite person for their country's birthday!" Navid insisted excitedly.

"No it isn't!" Aram interrupted loudly and earned a glare from Navid.

Navid yelled something at him in Persian and pushed Aram on the shoulder. Aram just rolled his eyes, winked at me, and turned his back towards us.

"Can I open it, please?" I reached for the gift.

"I don't know. You forget your country's birthday. You deserve present for this?" he smiled again.

"Please, sir? I promise next year I'll remember and get America something nice." I begged.

He slid his palm towards me to present the gift. I took the beautiful little box. It was so light in my hand that I thought it was empty. I carefully peeled back the flaps, and found a mess of white paper strips crinkled together. I dug through it but found nothing.

"The gift of paper, thank you," I beamed.

Navid rolled his eyes with a laugh and snatched the box back. He dug into the tight packing and pulled out the ends of a silver chain. He kept pulling at it painfully slow until the other side came out and showed a small silver pendant.

"I had this made special for you so you don't forget my name," he held it up.

"I couldn't forget your name if I tried. It is the my favorite word in your language!" I touched the pendant and noticed the little clouds coming from the bottom of the rocket looked like the Persian script he writes in. "It says a word!" I exclaimed as I touched the bottom of it.

"It is my name, Navid. You will have me on your heart. As long as you wear it, I will know I am only one in your heart and you are the only boy in mine," he whispered it to me and his cheeks blushed. It was private and just for us to share. He was putting his heart out there for me.

I felt my heart race happily and my stomach twisted like it was dancing. I wanted to cry, kiss him, and then cry some more as my smile spread to match his. I fought hard against it. I leaned in to him wanting a kiss. I started to close my eyes but then felt his hand gently touch my cheek. He rubbed a thumb over my lips.

"Not here, Noah," he whispered to me with gentle pleading. "That is for private, ok?"

He mouthed, "I'm sorry," with a look of guilt.

I nodded as he softly rubbed my lips to show me that he wished he could kiss me as well. It hurt to see how torn he was here. It was so strange to me to hide how we felt.

I didn't grow up ashamed of liking boys. My father figured me out long before I knew myself. It wasn't something he talked about directly, but when we were out and about in Los Angeles, he would point out when two men were holding hands or showing affection and say something like, "Some guys like guys, and some girls like girls and that's ok. It's just how they are."

My dad didn't want me to feel awkward or ashamed. When we saw hateful things on the news, he would explain to me that some cultures weren't ok with guys and girls showing their love, but that the world was changing. We needed to give them time and be happy that we lived in California. When I got to high school and found out there was an LGBT student club, he encouraged me to join it and even went to all of our family events and fundraisers.

I'd never actually told my dad that I was gay. He made it so that I didn't have to. I guessed that Navid's culture was very different, and I knew my dad would say what he always said about other cultures, "The world is made up of different beliefs and ways of being. Just because something is different doesn't make it better or worse than how we do things. I raised you to stop, observe, and think about it before you decide if it works for you."

I would be patient with how Navid did things. Maybe he would do the same for me. He put the necklace over my head and tucked it inside my t-shirt. He gave it a pat through my shirt and nodded happily.

"You are mine," he said once more and my face lit up again. He wasn't asking. He was claiming. He stopped for a minute like he was deciding something and then he gave my forehead a quick kiss before looking around to see if anyone had noticed. I didn't check.

"I am yours," I echoed.

I hated that he was struggling between what he wanted to do with me and what his culture would allow of him. In private, he never struggled for even a second with kissing me or putting his hands wherever he desired. I was his boy to touch and care for. But around his friends he had a different set of rules. Even though his culture seemed very comfortable with male to male contact, it never included lips touching skin.

For the first time in my life I wished I could be a girl, but maybe then he wouldn't want to touch me at all.

He slid his arm around me then and went back to the table conversation as I laid back into his aura and put my hand over the outline of the rocket on my chest. His tone returned to the carefree, confident man as he spoke with the other guys. He was just a regular Persian with his younger friend to care for. I was happy to see his struggle allayed.

One of the older white guys who was seated across and down from us caught my eye as I happily squeezed my new rocket. When our eyes met, he had this smile that said he had seen the whole thing and was happy for me. I blushed a little and looked down at my lap. He didn't try to make conversation and I wondered if he was as happy as I was to sit quietly in his man's shadow. Would that be my future?

My wandering thoughts came back to the present as the booms of July the fourth began to fill the dark, night sky. Navid squeezed me with an excited "Oh!" or "Yeah!" every time another rocket went off and he pointed at them and touched my chest. He told me the ones on the left were from Los Angeles and the right was probably Huntington Beach or somewhere in Orange County. Between the two big shows were a million little flutters of neighborhood kids and small city shows.

"That one in the center there is Disneyland! See? Mickey!" Navid yelled and his cheerful awe made him seem like a little boy.

It reminded me of the Fourth when I was young and very sick and my dad made me hot chocolate and wrapped me in blankets. He drove us up to a secret parking spot on the city-side of the Hollywood Hills where a house had recently been demolished. We just hung out in the car listening to patriotic music as the city exploded in front of us. It was so amazing and I was happy to be there wrapped up next to my hero. Just like then, I was once again wrapped up safely, next to my hero.

I shivered as the night air turned icy. Without a word, Navid unzipped his hoodie and insistently slid it over me like a blanket. I inhaled his scent along the collar and my body filled with the remnants of his warmth. He pulled me against his chest again as a yellow trail of lights splattered across the sky with a loud boom and formed into a smiley face.

"So awesome, Noah! Happy birthday, America!" He was definitely more excited about the fireworks than I was, but then again HE didn't have a strong, beautiful man holding him tightly for distraction.

"Does Iran do this too? The fireworks for independence?" I asked.

"We don't celebrate America's birthday in Iran... unless you go to an American-theme restaurant." He smiled; always joking.

"No, but for Iran's birthday!" I poked his chest.

"April 1st usually for your calendar. Our revolution day. Yes, we do this, but in many years it is not so big." Navid didn't seem to want to elaborate on that and I let it drop. We settled in quietly oohing and ahhing with each burst.

Aram had been mostly quiet on my other side, but for some reason he and Bashir started joking around loudly and wrestling each other. They were laughing so I could tell it was happy, but when Aram knocked into me, Navid put a stop to it. He said something harsh to them in Persian and then pulled me over onto his lap.

Everyone was watching the fireworks so Navid seemed ok with this level of affection. He hugged me back against his chest and I felt his lump growing under my butt. His lips touched my neck and I turned back to look at him.

"They will see us," I whispered, reminding him of the rules he was playing by.

Navid gave a small pouty look. "They are distraction by the show! Is dark now. No one notices us. You don't want me?"

"Of course I do... Anywhere and anytime. I've never not wanted you," I said incredulously and felt his hand rub up under my shirt. He pet my tummy in slow circles that made my body tense and shiver as soft noises escaped my lips.

The white guy caught my eye again and I turned back to Navid blushing in shame. "He's watching," I whispered.

"I know. He's wondering what it must feel like to be such a beautiful boy; the boy everyone here would fight to have in his arms. Don't pop his balloon. He will go home tonight and do wonderful things to please his man because he is worked up from watching a fantasy boy all night," Navid bit at my earlobe as the booming went on over the bay.

By the time the fireworks found their big finish, Navid had a firm tool lodged along the middle of my ass. The attention had returned from the show to the other guests on the boat and Navid was a little late stopping his nibbles along my neck. We were definitely the new show going on and I opened my eyes to see everyone watching us. His cock was at full growth by that time and he'd slid it out of his pants and had been rubbing it against my back. Luckily no one else could see that.

I turned my face and buried it against his shoulder as Navid awakened to the fact that the fireworks were over.

"Oh," I heard him gasp softly, but he couldn't slide me off of him. Everyone would have seen his full and proud beast.

"My boy is very cold and does not feel well. His first time on the water. I try to steady him so he does not get sicker from the waves," he said in English maybe so that I would understand and play along. "Perhaps we head back to shore now?"

He rubbed his hand soothingly over my chest to show the others he wasn't lying. I coughed a few times to add to his story and tried to look forlorn.