It's weird. It was the first time we didn't have sex. Normally, when we were together, it's always the same sex, fucking, and now love making. But I was treasuring not having sex and just being held in my sleep. For once, it's not before or after, or coming soon. It's just Noah and Tari, it's enough. More than enough. And when Noah woke up again with me in his arms, it was magic. Wasn't ready for him to leave but knew it was time for him to go. So, I saw him out with a kiss. Then I watched him drive away, still in awe of it all. Time together, no sex, and absolutely loving it.

The thing that surprised me, though, was when he came back to my house. He had his sister's car for me to borrow and coffee beans with him. Noah made me coffee in that flannel shirt and jeans. Those jeans looked like a god poured his meaty thighs into them. I'd never had coffee in my place, ever. I was drinking water before because coffee for me had become synonymous with Noah. It's still hard to believe how far we have come. How much everything has changed. And I'm thankful, I know to be.

Noah came bearing gifts with him. A small bag of freshly ground coffee joined the items on my tiny kitchen countertop. With the new coffee machine turned on, I was ready for the show. It wasn't what he used to make the coffee on the boat. This one was a fancy already open. He had to have practiced on it before bringing it to me. That was cute. He's on a roll cute day roll this man of mine. I loved saying that, and the smile never left my expression as I watched him.

The next thing Noah pulls out is a brand new thermos. He washes it in my sink, placing it next to the rest of the items. The last item was a hand grinder for coffee beans. He had all the coffee extras, but I'd be happy with whatever he made. Then he makes everything, and it's so mesmerizing to watch him. I was quite watching him meticulously put my coffee together. And when he handed me my coffee and sipped it slowly. So fucking tasty. Then he pours more into a small thermos cup that he's pouring carefully. Then he cleans the sink area.

"My dad was a military repair guy. After his active tours in a few conflicts. Then he became a carpenter who repaired ships. I told you about that on the boat." He says, cleaning my kitchen. I don't think he could help himself. His eye contact is fleeting, but I enjoyed talking to him about different topics. Then he starts washing the dishes.

I lick the taste of coffee off my lips as I watch him wash his cup that was once filled with apple juice. I'm not sure why a giggle left my lips so quick. But I figured it out quickly and thought about the apple-flavored lube from the boat. I barely stop myself from falling into a second giggle fit.

Noah lifts his head from the dishes. Stops, with his lifted head tilting it so all his long sandy locks fall to the side. His ocean eyes confused in that guy I'm trying to figure her out the way. Which only causes more giggles to escape my lips even faster. Then he smiles at me and washes the plate. I had really gross unwashed dishes. It happened. I didn't think anyone was coming, and I was rushing. Of course, that caused Noah to take all the dishes out of the dishwasher and wash them all again. Reorganizing the order while he put them into it was neat. Washing and organizing a dishwasher must be one of those shadow porn. I was getting all worked up, and we really had nowhere to go with it.

If I stayed at my current coffee pace, I'd burn through this coffee. Then I'd only be left with a little in the thermos. I did not give a fuck though the Noah's coffee was a drug. The most delightful decadent kinds. I wonder if he could make specialty drinks? He was done putting away the dishes and simply watching me drink coffee. It was the same eyes he did when he watched me cum. As if he was cataloging everything and couldn't wait for me to do it again. One of the few times his eyes made consistent eye contact with me. He always drank me in as thirsty as I drank him in.

"Your place is beautiful, Tari," he says.

"Thanks, it's small but mine," I said fiercely. But at my words, he may have heard it. Because he took a second survey of the room like it was wonderland.

"I.." But Noah stopped talking and didn't say more. His hands were moving and even in the car, it felt like he had something to tell me. "About earlier..." I wasn't sure which earlier. We'd had so many conversations, but his anxiety was worrying me. The more he searched for words, the more worried I got. But not a bad worry...

"Noah, is it important?" I asked him.

"Yes," he nods.

"Will it upset me?" I try to work it out what is behind it.

"Yes," he nods again. Worry built in me.

"Let's shelve it for now. When you are ready to tell me, tell me. I trust you, but your hands are moving." I didn't want to call attention to his hands. But he also wasn't hiding it from me. Any autistic tick he hid when we first met as much as possible until he trusted me. Then, when we broke up, he hid it all even harder, to the point of drawing blood in his palms. But he wasn't hiding anything from me. Noah was in much of a place of trust as I was for him. When he was ready, he'd tell me.

We had a long conversation about everything under the sun. His boats, his art, and his family. He didn't talk tons, but it was more than he had ever before. When he wanted to talk about something, that was upsetting for him. Having the trust to tell him I could wait for him to talk to me about it when he's ready. The smile slipped back in as if it couldn't be stopped. Overall, we had been in such a good place.

"You know I love you so fucking much. You are my Neptune, Noah." One of my hands left the mug and leaned forward to touch my warm hand against the side of his rough cheek. "I love you."

He nods at my words, standing straighter. Then turns into my palm against his cheek. And I knew finally, he accepted that it was the truth. Absolute, unchangeable truth. For me, I'd always love Noah simply like that, and I think he finally understood. Sometimes men think we can be a blank slate for them. Walking into another relationship clean isn't possible. An instantly flick a switch and be a ready model new car for them. That just isn't how life works. We bring our scars, and just like the pretty parts, that's what makes us who we are. For Noah he was new for me but in his own way he had so far to come to get to this point same as me. I was glad he finally fully accepted my love even a tiny bit back. Even if he couldn't return the words from me. I took a step back from him, bringing my hands to the warm mug and taking another sip.

"Thanks for the coffee, Noah," I say with a broad smile around my cup. He nods again but with a warm smile at me, which is more of his cuteness today.

"Be careful on the back roads. A storm is coming." I look up at the sky and he's right, the storm clouds rolling dark against the blue sky. Not clumping up yet, but it was coming. Then heads for my door again today without too much fanfare. We both had stuff to do today, but I kind of wish he stayed longer. Not for more, but just because I enjoyed him in my space that he was too big for. I liked him next to my plants, peering into the pots like I did beautiful black magic to keep them alive. The kind that the hoodoo women would do with their hands. Thrusting their dark buttered hands into the inky black earth. Giving life to the dead lands like those old stories. Where butter up wise women made worlds with black magic and hope in a land of lemons and salt.

I love the way he saw my little home. The way he viewed every inch as if this little place was holy. A man of so few words but speaks so god damn loudly. But my house plants were half on him at my tiny sink. Noah almost hit the ceiling standing in my kitchen. I was dipping halfway to the brand new thermos he filled with coffee already. He just gave it to me, plus more for later before he left. For the second time today, I watched Noah leave my little home with a smile. Hoping that someday he'd come again to my home.

Leaning against the doorframe of my door, watching my man go down the apt stairs. MY MAN! The words were so fun in my head and kept watching that fine ass in those poured on work jeans go down my stairs. I took a slow sip of my coffee and attempted not to do the happy dance against my door frame. Part pole dance, part coffee party, all happy dance, but I kept it to myself.

He wasn't that far away from his truck, with Maurice sitting on the passenger side. Black Kryptonite waved at me Zoey's little car parked out front for me. I was running out of stairs to watch his ass. He had things to do. An interview coming up for his art that was donated to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art by one of his patrons. It was a big fucking deal. It opens the door for a modern artist to appear in art museums around the world very easily. I was so proud of him. Hell, I'd really like to be proud of him with him and me on my kitchen counter. The sex greed was talking; he had stuff to do.

Noah stopped at the bottom of the steps. He was frozen, and I kept waiting for Noah to head to the truck and drive off. Then he turned around and raced back up the stairs. And he stopped to kiss me deeply, smiling into the kiss. Every bit of me stood to attention for his man as he owned my mouth. Feeding my little moan into his lips. I chased his tongue into his mouth, playing back and forth with him until the honk ended our kiss.

"Cock blocker," I yelled at Black Kryptonite.

"Sorry, I'm on a break from the firehouse." He yelled back with a laugh.

I watched Noah race down the stairs and drive away with his friend. I stood outside my door with my coffee and watched that car go. Already sad to see the small speck of the truck in the distance.

A/n: thank you so much for reading. We are inching closer to the end. Yall, digging the coments and keep them coming.