Maybe I wanted to shower with him because I wanted to see how it looked when the water poured down onto his messy hair, the way it framed his delicate face, the way the water drops caught onto his lashes, clinging to the hairs even as he blinked. The way his eyes searched for mine wildly, unsure if he was allowed or supposed to be looking at me. Or, the sound he makes when I rub shampoo into his hair, massaging his temples. The little moan that wasn’t nearly as sexual as moans I’ve heard from him, but just as wonderful to hear. Or perhaps the way his body looked all soapy, or how it felt to rub the body wash over his entire naked body. The way he felt underneath my hands. The way he bit his lips, holding back just how much he liked being touched. Or, when he realized I began to lower my touch, he said, “we have training soon.” And instead of letting me continue to touch him, he held my hands as to hold me back form touching him, and kissed me. He didn’t object when I broke through his grip and reached for his face.

Or maybe I wanted to shower with him because I had a little inference that he had never seen someone fully naked before and watching him take me in was flattering as it was humorous. He was modest with his touching at first, but when I said, “you don’t have to be so restrained,” his touching sped up and his eyes went wild. Noah unrestrained is a wickedly beautiful thing to see. Though, this probably isn’t him fully unrestrained. There was still some hesitance in his movements. But that could be expected as someone with very little sexual encounters.

It still seems impossible that he was a virgin. I mean, he was just so damn attractive. But in truth, being a virgin has little to do with that. He was a virgin because he wanted to be one. Or, he didn't particularly not want to be one. And he was young. Losing your virginity shouldn’t be something required by a certain age. It happens when you are ready. But still…thinking about being the one to take his was terrifying. I mean, an honor, surely. But scary as shit. What if I can’t give him the experience he deserves? What if I’m too aggressive or…I don’t know, I just want him to feel safe. But there is also that innate sexual desire that seems impossible to not answer to. Though, I managed to control myself enough to prevent needing to control myself, if that even makes any sense. 

“Ten, can I ask you something?” He speaks softly, his voice nearly drowned out by the stream water hitting the shower floor. He looks at me shyly, like what he is about to say is unprecedented or something he is not in the right place to say.

“Anything.”

“Is it always like this?”

“What?”

He looks down for a moment before looking back at me, face filled with confusion and something else I can’t quite place. “This. With other people. Sex stuff. Is it always this…does it always make sense like this?”

I watch the water drip off of his face, his eyelashes, his lips, as he awaits an answer. But instead, I turn off the water and step out of the shower. I reach for his towel and like he’s a child, I wrap it around him. While he seems confused, he doesn’t object. Even when I bring the towel to his hair and mess it around to remove some of the water, he doesn’t argue. And I think about what that means. The fact that he’s letting me treat him like this— so softly…tenderly. He craves affection more than anything. I know it. I know what that desire looks like because I’ve seen it in myself. We both never had a real family and that caused damage that most likely could never be healed…at least not fully. But where I was loved in my own way, I don’t think anyone loved Noah. It seems impossible that he’s been alive for nineteen years with no one loving him when I fall in love with him within a month. No, I don’t think it took a month. When I saw him in the crowd as I stood on the stage, I knew this was something- someone different. The way my heart seems to tear apart at that moment…I knew this was different. So after I finish drying him off, I reach for the back of his neck, pull him so close to me that our lips are basically touching, and say, “Never.”