Noah wasn’t the kind of boy who hated God. He just didn’t speak to Him. He existed peacefully, in his own little world. No piercings, no rage, no rebellion. Just calm silence. He didn’t even believe he was an atheist. He just... didn’t care much. That itself was a sin to some, but Noah had long made peace with himself.

The city of Amsterdam, with its beautiful canals and cloudy skies, always gave him more comfort than scripture. But sometimes, the rain became too much. That night, it wasn’t a gentle drizzle. It was a thunderous storm. Rain lashed at the windows like it wanted to break through, soak everything, destroy peace. Noah had been walking aimlessly with his hoodie pulled low over his eyes. By the time he found shelter, his clothes clung to him like second skin.

A heavy wooden door creaked open. The church was dim inside, lit only by a few scattered candles. It smelled like old books, incense, and stories not yet confessed. He stepped in, teeth chattering.

“Hey,” a voice called out softly.

Noah looked up. There he was—Aurelio. Older. Broader. A man with lines of thought across his forehead and eyes that held stories. Not yet a priest, but he was wearing black. His hair had streaks of silver though he wasn’t that old. It suited him, made him look more serious than he was.

“You’ll get sick if you stay like that,” Aurelio said, approaching with a thick towel.

Noah blinked. “It’s just rain.”

“You’re soaked. Sit here.”

He guided Noah to a pew, handing him the towel.

Noah accepted it but said, “You’re not a priest, are you?”

Aurelio smiled, sitting beside him. “No. Just a man thinking about becoming one.”

Noah chuckled quietly. “Strange ambition.”

“Is it?”

“You want to wear that collar and tell people how to live?”

“No. I want to learn how to listen. That’s what priests should do. But they rarely do.”

Their eyes met. The thunder outside made the stained glass windows tremble.

“What’s your name?” Aurelio asked.

“Noah.”

“That’s biblical.”

“Is it?” he said dryly, pulling the towel tighter.

“You know it is.”

Silence fell again.

Aurelio stood. “Come to the back. It’s warmer.”

Noah followed, walking slowly, his wet boots squeaking slightly. The room behind the altar was cozier—small bed, shelves of books, a heater humming quietly.

“You live here?” Noah asked.

“For now.”

Aurelio handed him dry clothes. “These will be big on you.”

“I look like a blanket already,” Noah muttered, stepping into the bathroom.

He changed and returned, holding his wet clothes in a bundle. Aurelio took them, tossing them over a chair.

“You okay?”

Noah hesitated. Then nodded.

Aurelio poured two cups of tea. They sat by the window, the storm playing music against the glass.

Noah sipped quietly. “I don’t pray. I don’t hate churches either. I just... exist.”

Aurelio looked at him with something unreadable. “That’s more honest than most believers.”

Noah looked down. “You’re nice. For someone thinking of being a priest.”

Aurelio smirked. “You’re soft. For someone who acts like they don’t feel.”

They drank in silence.

Outside, the storm grew worse.

Inside, something quiet began.

 .......................................................................

Noah is 21 - and innocent college boy like he is just too innocent for the world and yeah he knows about sex and all but he is pure in sense he will never ever even think of hurting anyone and he will never do any evil or even think of it because for him world is a beautiful place eventhough he has been hurt millions of times

Noah didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the fever hit hard. It crept into his spine like ice, settled behind his eyes, turned his limbs heavy. He curled beneath the thick blanket Aurelio had brought, shivering.

Aurelio came in with another cup of tea, but the moment he saw Noah’s face—too pale, lips slightly parted, brow damp—he put the cup down and knelt beside him.

“Noah?”

“Mm,” Noah breathed, eyes fluttering. “Too hot...”

“You’re burning up,” Aurelio muttered, palm to his forehead. “Jesus.”

Noah blinked slowly. His eyes were glazed, hazy.

“You’re not real,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“You look like a story.”

Aurelio chuckled under his breath, brushing hair off Noah’s forehead. “You’re delirious.”

“I’m serious,” Noah whispered. “You have those eyes. Like... if I told you a secret, you’d bury it in your heart forever.”

“Try me.”

Noah was quiet. Then, voice soft, fragile:

“I’m scared.”

“Of?”

“Of falling. Of needing someone.”

Aurelio’s fingers paused against his skin. “And you think I’m safe?”

“I think,” Noah whispered, “you feel like warmth. And I’m cold.”

He shifted, trying to sit up, but winced. Aurelio gently helped him upright.

Their faces were close now. Noah’s breath ghosted over Aurelio’s lips.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Noah whispered.

“You’re safe here.”

“I shouldn’t feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“I feel... like I want to forget the world. Right here. Right now.”

The silence between them was thick, humming. The storm outside screamed louder. The thunder rolled through the church.

Aurelio didn’t move away.

He leaned in—close, but not enough.

“Noah,” he murmured.

“Mm?”

“Tell me to stop.”

Noah didn’t. Instead, he leaned in, forehead against Aurelio’s.

“I don’t want you to.”

Their mouths found each other slowly. A shy press of lips, hesitant, trembling with guilt and want. The blanket fell off Noah’s shoulders as Aurelio gently pulled him closer.

The fever made Noah pliant, every touch like fire. Aurelio’s hands held his jaw, thumbs brushing over heated cheeks.

“You're shaking,” Aurelio whispered against his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” Noah begged, voice cracked.

Aurelio paused, forehead to Noah’s, breath shaking. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t want to remember tomorrow. I want this. Just this.”

Their clothes came off slow. Not rushed, but reverent. As though each inch of skin uncovered was holy. Aurelio kissed along Noah’s jaw, down the curve of his neck, listening to every quiet gasp, every small noise Noah made.

Noah arched into him, soft whimpers spilling from his lips. His fevered body responded to every press, every glide of warmth.

Their bodies moved in rhythm—slow, tender, unsure but aching. Heat and sweat clung to them. Noah’s fingers dug into Aurelio’s shoulders. He cried out softly when Aurelio entered him, eyes fluttering open with pain and awe.

Aurelio stilled. “Noah—”

“It’s okay,” he breathed. “I want it to be you.”

They moved like waves, like something sacred. Whispers filled the room. Noah held on like he was afraid Aurelio might vanish. And when it ended, it ended with Noah crumbling into his chest, breathless and shivering.

Aurelio held him through the trembles, the soreness.

Neither spoke.

The storm outside slowly faded.

Inside, something irreversible had begun.

Noah slept like a stone, his face pressed against Aurelio’s chest, breath soft, body trembling with the aftershocks of fever and firsts. The early light snuck in through the stained glass and danced gently across their skin. Aurelio hadn't moved an inch. He'd barely slept.

His hand slowly traced along the curve of Noah’s back, feeling the warmth still lingering. He looked down and felt his throat tighten. There were bruises—faint, old, and ugly. Finger-shaped and scattered across Noah’s ribs and shoulder blades.

It took a second to understand what he was seeing.

It took less than that to feel sick.

Noah stirred and groaned, sore in places he hadn’t known could ache.

“Good morning,” Aurelio said softly.

Noah blinked, eyelids heavy. “Didn’t feel like a dream.”

“It wasn’t.”

A pause. Then Noah sat up slightly. His hair was a mess. The hoodie he’d worn was still bunched up around his thighs.

“I remember...it was well sca-..unexpected” he whispered.

Aurelio nodded.

Noah stared down at the sheet. “It was my first time.”

“I know,” Aurelio said quietly. “I realized midway.”

“I should’ve. I’m sor—”

“No,” Noah interrupted. “I wanted it. Even in the haze, I wanted it to be with you.”

They both sat in silence.

Then Noah looked up, searching Aurelio’s eyes. “What are you gonna do now?”

“I don’t know,” Aurelio said. “I’m not a priest. I thought I wanted to be one. But you...”

Noah smiled gently. “I exist. Peacefully.”

The moment was tender, fragile.

They both silent not knowing what to say or how to say so that it doesn't look like a forced conversation or awkward.

Then came the knock on the front door.

Aurelio stiffened.

Noah immediately got up, even though it hurt. He winced but smiled through it.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You can decide what you want. I won’t harm your work.”

He began dressing silently, slipping out the back without another word, leaving behind the scent of rain, tea, and sin.

But what lingered stronger than all of that was longing.

Because once you taste warmth, it never leaves you.

Even if you pretend it never happened

He left like a whisper—no door creaked, no floorboard groaned. Just the absence of him.

And in that silence, Aurelio sat there, hand pressed to the spot where Noah had just lain, already missing the boy who had never really belonged to him.

Outside, the storm had passed. But inside, another one had just begun.

—End of Chapter 3—

hello people this is your author here and just so you know it's my first novel and second story on this app and I don't really know how to write stories well I am a self-proclaimed poet, so my stories are like poetry sometimes so for that sorry and your welcome and umm yeah English isn't really my first language so sorry for mistakes and just ignore them please :)

And and and the age gap isn't that horrifying here,you will understand the cover at the end maybe and trust me it's beautiful