Small. Efficient. Nothing like Naples.
They collected their bags. Stepped outside.
The heat hit first. Dry, not humid. Wind off the water cutting through it.
Noah shielded his eyes. The light here was different. Sharper. Everything edges and contrast.
A man in a white polo held a sign: Canaves Oia.
"That's us." Atlas lifted a hand. The driver nodded. Took their bags.
The van was air-conditioned. Blessed relief.
Noah pressed his face to the window as they pulled out.
"How far?"
"Twenty-five minutes." Atlas checked his phone. "Maybe thirty."
The road wound through the island. Small villages. Churches with blue roofs. Donkeys on the hillside.
And then—
Oia.
Oh.
White buildings spilling down the cliff edge. That blue—the blue from every photograph, every postcard, every dream. Windmills silhouetted against the sky.
"Atlas." Noah couldn't look away. "Are you seeing this?"
"I see it." Atlas's voice strange. Thick.
Noah turned. Atlas was looking at him. Not the view.
Oh.
Noah's face heated.
"Stop."
"Stop what?"
"Looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
Like I'm the view.
Like I'm the whole island.
Noah didn't answer. Just took Atlas's hand. Squeezed hard.
Atlas squeezed back.
---
The entrance was carved into the cliff. White stone. Blue accents. Minimalist. Beautiful.
A woman at reception smiled. "Mr. Sterlins. Mr. Wentford. Welcome."
"Your suite is ready." She handed Atlas a key. Actual key—brass, old-fashioned. "Petros will show you."
They followed Petros down winding steps. Past terraces. Past pools. Past views that kept getting more impossible.
And then their door.
White. Simple. A single bougainvillea bloom painted on the wood.
Petros unlocked it. Stepped aside.
Noah walked in—
And forgot how to breathe.
The room was white. All white. Curved walls—cave-like but open. A massive bed facing—
Oh god.
The terrace.
An infinity pool. Small but perfect. Turquoise water blending into the sky, into the sea, into forever.
And beyond it—
The caldera. The volcano. The sunset just starting to paint everything gold.
"This is—" Noah couldn't finish.
Atlas came up behind him. Arms wrapping around his waist. Chin on his shoulder.
"Yeah." His voice low. "This is."
Petros said something about dinner reservations, about breakfast, about amenities. Noah didn't hear any of it.
Just felt Atlas. Solid. Warm. Here.
The door closed. They were alone.
Noah turned in Atlas's arms. Looked up at him.
"We're in Santorini."
"We are."
"In a cave suite. With a private pool. Watching the sunset."
"Accurate summary."
Noah laughed. It came out shaky. Overwhelmed.
"What did I do to deserve this? To deserve you?"
Atlas's expression shifted. Serious now.
"You showed up." His hand cupped Noah's face. Thumb tracing his cheekbone. "You stayed. You chose me."
I'd choose you every time.
Every life.
Every universe.
"The sunset." Noah's voice rough. "We should watch the sunset."
"We should."
Neither of them moved.
Atlas kissed him instead. Soft at first. Then deeper. His hands sliding into Noah's hair, tilting his head back, taking and taking and giving everything back.
Noah clung to him. The world narrowing to this—his mouth, his hands, his heartbeat against Noah's chest.
When they finally broke apart, the sun had dipped lower. Gold bleeding into pink bleeding into purple.
"Okay." Noah breathed. "Sunset. Then—"
"Then?"
Noah smiled. Let his dimples show.
"Then I want to try that pool."
Atlas's eyes darkened.
"Deal."
They turned together. Walked to the terrace. Settled on the daybed—Noah between Atlas's legs, back against his chest.
The sky burned.
The sea glittered.
Atlas's arms wrapped around him, holding him close, holding him safe.
This is it.
This is everything.
Noah tilted his head back. Found Atlas's mouth. Kissed him soft.
---
The terrace was quiet.
Just them. The caldera sprawling below. First stars appearing over the Aegean.
White wine in glasses catching the last sun. Grilled sea bass with lemon. Greek salad—tomatoes warm from the afternoon. Orzo with shrimp.
Wind moved through. Warm. Carrying salt and jasmine from somewhere down the cliff. Candle flames bent sideways. Wax dripped onto white linen.
Noah cut into the fish. Took a bite. His eyes fell closed. A small sound escaped—involuntary.
Atlas hadn't touched his plate in minutes.
He was watching Noah's mouth. The way his lips parted around the fork. The way his tongue swept across his bottom lip after.
Noah reached for his wine. Fingers curling around the stem. Lifted. Sipped.
His throat moved.
Atlas's hand found Noah's thigh under the table.
Noah's eyes opened. Glanced at him. Eyebrow lifting.
He didn't push the hand away.
Kept eating.
Atlas's thumb traced slow circles through the linen. Pressing into muscle.
Noah's fork stalled midair—just a beat—then continued.
Atlas pressed harder. Thumb drifting higher.
Noah set down his fork. Deliberate.
"You're staring."
"Admiring."
"Same thing."
"Not even close." Atlas's thumb grazed the inner seam of Noah's pants. "One is rude."
Heat crawled up Noah's neck. He grabbed his wine. Drained half of it.
Under the table, his free hand found Atlas's. Fingers threading together. Holding tight.
They ate. Or Noah did. Atlas pushed food around his plate, distracted by the way candlelight moved across Noah's face. The dimples threatening to appear. The curls rebelling against whatever he'd put in them, falling across his forehead.
Wind gusted stronger. Candle flames flattened, nearly died, recovered.
Below, Oia's white buildings tumbled down the cliff face. Windows beginning to glow gold. A church bell rang somewhere—once, twice—then silence.
Atlas set down his fork. Reached for wine.
Noah finished his glass. Set it down. Lips darker now. A drop caught at the corner of his mouth.
Atlas didn't decide to move. Just did.
His hand leaving Noah's thigh. Finding his jaw instead. Turning his face. Closing the distance between their chairs.
The kiss unhurried. Atlas traced Noah's bottom lip with his tongue—tasting wine, lemon, underneath it something that was only Noah.
He caught Noah's lower lip between his teeth. Pulled gently. Let go.
Noah's breath hitched against his mouth.
Atlas drew back. Just enough to watch Noah's eyes open. Glazed. Unfocused. That flush spreading down past his collar.
"What—" Noah's voice came out scraped. He swallowed. "What was that for?"
"Wanted to taste it."
"The wine?"
"On you." Atlas's thumb dragged across Noah's bottom lip. Damp. Swollen. "Better."
Noah stared at him. Chest rising too fast. His tongue touched where Atlas's thumb had been.
Atlas tracked the movement.
Then leaned back. Picked up his glass. Easy. Like he hadn't just unraveled Noah completely.
Quiet descended. Heavy. Electric.
The sea whispered below—waves meeting volcanic rock. A motorbike engine somewhere in the village, fading. Cutlery clinking from a distant terrace.
Atlas turned his wine glass. Around. Around. Condensation smearing under his fingers.
Noah watched his hands. The tension in his knuckles. Something building beneath the surface.
"Last year."
Noah's gaze lifted to his face.
Atlas was staring at the horizon. That place where black sea dissolved into purple sky. His jaw tight. Muscle twitching beneath skin.
"When I came back to New York." His voice lower. Rougher. "I kept thinking about you."
Noah's fork hit his plate. He'd forgotten he was holding it.
Wind swept across the terrace. Candles flickering wildly. Shadows dancing over Atlas's face.
"I didn't expect—" Atlas's hand lifted. Gestured vaguely at the terrace. The dying candles. The wine. The shrinking space between them that used to feel impossible. "This."
His jaw worked. Clenched. Released.
Noah watched the muscle jump. Watched Atlas's fingers tap the tablecloth—once, twice—then stop when he caught himself.
"What do you mean?"
His own voice sounded far away.
Atlas turned to him. And Noah forgot how to breathe—because Atlas's eyes weren't guarded. Weren't controlled. Weren't anything Noah had seen before.
They were terrified.
"I don't know." Words dragged out slowly. Painfully. "You were just... there. Constantly. In my head." He reached for his wine. Put it down. Reached again. "Couldn't shake it. Tried."
Noah's chest compressed. His hand found the tablecloth. Fisted it.
He thought of that night. The elevator rising—85, 86, 87. His collar strangling him. Heart already racing before the doors opened.
The moment Atlas had walked toward him through the crowd. That voice hitting Noah before anything else. His champagne glass shaking so hard he'd gripped it with both hands.
"That party." The words escaped before Noah could catch them. "Your apartment. When you came back."
Atlas froze. Every part of him.
Noah's pulse hammered in his throat.
"I was nervous." He laughed—brittle, breaking. "Couldn't figure out why. Blamed it on the crowd. The noise. Too many people."
He stopped. Swallowed. The sound too loud in the quiet.
"But when you walked in—"
The memory sliced through him. Atlas in black. Sleeves pushed up. The crowd parting like water. Those eyes finding Noah across the room and not letting go.
"I forgot how to breathe." Barely audible now. "My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I didn't know what it meant." He found Atlas's eyes. "I do now."
Atlas's hand shot across the table. Grabbed Noah's. Gripped hard enough to hurt.
Neither moved.
A wave broke below. Louder than the rest. The candle between them guttered, throwing shadows across Atlas's face.
"I knew." Atlas's voice low. Rough. "That night. I knew what it meant. Had known for a long time."
Noah's breath caught.
"How long?"
Atlas picked up his wine. Set it down. Picked it up again.
His hand was shaking.
"College."
One word.
Everything stopped.
Noah couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't feel anything except the word echoing through him.
College.
That's years.
Years.
A memory surfaced. One he'd buried so deep he'd almost convinced himself it wasn't real.
Junior year. Someone's apartment. Music too loud. Bodies everywhere.
Atlas across the room. Talking to someone. Then laughing—head thrown back, throat exposed, that laugh Noah had only heard a few times before.
Noah had stared. Couldn't stop himself. Something in his chest pulling toward Atlas like a tide he couldn't fight.
Atlas had caught him looking.
Their eyes met through the crowd.
Noah had looked away first. Face on fire. Told himself it was the heat. The alcohol. Nothing.
He'd thought about it for months.
That wasn't nothing.
That was never nothing.
"I thought you hated me." Noah's voice didn't sound like his. "Back then. You were always—"
His throat closed. He forced through it.
"Such an asshole. Every time we talked. That look you'd give me—like I was irritating you just by existing."
Atlas flinched. Full-body.
"I know." Barely there.
"Then why—"
"Because I didn't know how to—" Atlas stopped. Started over. Eyes dropping to the table. His hand crushing Noah's. "I didn't know how to be around you. What to do with—" He shook his head. "Being cruel was easier than admitting—"
His voice broke.
Noah stared at him.
All this time.
Every cold shoulder.
Every time he walked away without looking back.
Not hate.
Never hate.
The candle flame bent horizontal. Wax spilling across linen. Righted itself.
Noah's vision blurred. He blinked hard.
Atlas looked up. Saw his face. Saw the tears building.
Something in his expression crumbled. The last defense falling.
"Noah—"
Noah moved without thinking.
Chair scraping stone. Hands grabbing Atlas's face. Mouth finding his.
The kiss was desperate. Clumsy. Their teeth collided.
Noah didn't care.
Atlas made a wounded sound. Hands fisting Noah's shirt. Dragging him closer. Almost into his lap.
Years.
He wanted me for years.
While I was convincing myself the dreams meant nothing—
He was—
Noah kissed him harder. Pouring in everything. Every wasted moment. Every misread signal. Every night he'd lain awake not letting himself think about this.
Atlas kissed back like a man starving. Tongue sliding against Noah's. Hands moving to his hair. Fingers tangling in the curls. Gripping. Pulling.
Noah gasped into his mouth.
When they broke apart—foreheads together, breath ragged, sharing the same air—
"I love you." It ripped out of Noah. Shattered. Barely a sound. "So much it terrifies me."
Atlas's eyes still shut. Hands still in Noah's hair. Shaking there.
"I've been in love with you for years." Scraped raw. Every defense stripped away. "Before I had a name for it. Before I let myself believe it was real."
Noah's heart seized.
In love.
Years.
"You're not—" He pulled back. Had to see Atlas's face. Had to know. "This isn't the wine? The setting? You're not just—"
Please let this be real.
Please don't take it back.
I can't unknow this.
Atlas's expression hardened. Something fierce cutting through.
He grabbed Noah's shirt. Both fists. Yanked him forward.
This kiss was different. Not desperate—deliberate. Not clumsy—claiming. His teeth catching Noah's bottom lip. Biting down.
Noah moaned. Couldn't help it. Hands gripping Atlas's shoulders.
Atlas's tongue swept through his mouth. Taking. Owning.
When he let go, Noah had forgotten his own name.
"Does that feel like wine?"
Noah shook his head. Speech beyond him.
Atlas's thumb found his bottom lip. Swollen now. Tender where teeth had broken skin.
"Does that feel like setting?"
Another shake.
"Good." Atlas's voice low. Wrecked. "Because I've wanted this since you walked into my apartment in that green sweater and I lost the ability to form sentences. Since your champagne glass shook in your hand and I wanted to take it from you. Put my mouth where the glass had been."
The green sweater.
He remembers what I wore.
He saw my hand shaking.
He saw everything.
Noah's eyes spilled over. He couldn't stop it.
"I'm in love with you too." His voice fracturing. "I have been. Before I admitted it. Before I understood what it was." A broken laugh. "I used to tell myself the dreams didn't mean anything. That everyone dreams like that."
"Noah—"
"I didn't want to say it and watch you pull away. Didn't want to be too much. Didn't want—"
"Hey." Atlas's hands on his face. Thumbs catching tears. "Hey. Look at me."
Noah looked.
Atlas's eyes were wet. Shining.
"You could never be too much." Like a vow. Like something unbreakable. "Not for me. Never for me."
Noah collapsed into him.
Face pressed into Atlas's neck. Shoulders heaving. Years of buried everything finally breaking loose.
Atlas gathered him up. Pulled him fully into his lap. One arm around his back. One hand in his hair.
"I'm here." Against Noah's temple. "I've got you. Not going anywhere."
Noah's fists twisted in Atlas's shirt. Holding on like the world might dissolve.
Real.
This is real.
He meant it.
Their hearts pounded against each other. Erratic. Gradually finding the same beat.
Atlas's lips pressed to Noah's forehead. Lingered.
Then his temple.
His cheekbone.
The damp corner of his eye.
Each one tender. Reverent. Nothing like the bruising kiss before.
Noah tilted up. Found Atlas's mouth.
This kiss slow. Careful. Something precious held between them.
Yours.
Mine.
We have time now.
When they separated, both had wet faces. Neither cared.
Noah laughed. Shaky. Dragged his hand across his cheek.
"We're crying over cold fish."
"Private terrace." Atlas's voice rough. Ruined. "No witnesses."
"The waiter."
"I'll make sure he forgets."
Noah laughed again. Pressed his forehead to Atlas's. Just breathing him in. Salt air and wine and skin.
"You remembered the green sweater."
"I remember everything." Atlas's hand on his jaw. Tilting his face. "Every time you walked into a room. Every time you laughed. Every time you shoved your hair back and it fell right into your eyes again." His thumb traced Noah's cheekbone. "Everything, Noah. All of it."
Noah kissed him. Quick. Necessary.
Food had gone cold. Candles had burned down—wax pooled across the tablecloth like small lakes. Stars crowded the sky above the Aegean. The village below sparkled, white and gold tumbling down black cliffs.
Atlas looked at the abandoned plates. The empty glasses.
"Walk?"
Noah nodded. Voice still unreliable.
Oia unfolded around them. Narrow streets. White walls glowing in darkness. Blue doors faded by sun and salt. Shuttered windows leaking candlelight through the cracks.
Footsteps echoing on worn stone. Their shoulders touching with every step.
Atlas's hand found Noah's.
Noah looked down at their fingers. Atlas's tan against his pale. Intertwined.
We're doing this.
In public.
After everything he said.
This is actually my life.
A cat watched them from a blue doorstep. Green eyes. Tail curled.
Music from somewhere—bouzouki, a woman's voice carrying something melancholy. Laughter from a rooftop. The clink of glasses.
"Feels like a dream." Noah said it quiet. Afraid speaking louder would shatter something.
Atlas squeezed his hand. Pulled him closer until their bodies pressed together, shoulder to hip.
"Better because you're here."
Noah stopped walking. Turned. Rose onto his toes.
The kiss landed on Atlas's cheek. Soft. Lingering near his mouth.
An older couple passed. Silver hair. Linen clothes. The woman smiled at them. Said something in Greek.
Atlas responded. Halting. Getting the sounds wrong.
The couple laughed warmly. The man squeezed Atlas's shoulder. They walked on.
"What did she say?"
"Something about young love." Atlas's arm slid around Noah's waist. "Probably. My Greek is terrible."
"You tried."
"For you." Like it was simple. Obvious.
They walked again. Atlas keeping him close. Noah's head finding his shoulder.
Comfortable silence. Heavy with everything spoken. Everything still to come.
Then—
"Our anniversary."
Noah looked up. Atlas was watching the street ahead. Profile sharp against white walls.
"What about it?"
"What do you want to do for it?"
Noah stumbled on a cobblestone. "You don't care about that stuff."
"You do."
Two words.
You do.
So I do.
Noah's throat tightened.
"You don't have to—"
"Tell me. Or I'm searching online." Atlas's voice dry. "And you really don't want to see those results."
"Pottery classes?"
"First suggestion."
"Matching tattoos?"
"Third."
"Couple's massages?"
"Every other one. With photos of miserable people in robes."
Noah laughed. Real. Bright. The sound bouncing off white walls.
He stopped. Wrapped arms around Atlas's neck. Face buried in his shoulder.
"You're ridiculous." Muffled against fabric.
"I'm aware."
"And I love you."
"I know." Arms tightening around him. "Two months. Figure out what you want."
Noah pressed lips to his neck. Right over his pulse. Felt it stutter.
"Okay."
They walked. No destination. No urgency.
The hotel appeared eventually. White walls luminous. Bougainvillea spilling down in purple cascades. Candles flickering along the path.
Noah's heart quickened.
The pool.
The stars.
Him.
The infinity pool glowed turquoise. Underwater lights turning water into liquid sapphire.
Beyond: the caldera. The sea. Cliff dropping into darkness.
Above: stars. Endless. More than Noah had ever seen.
He looked at Atlas. Atlas was already watching him.
"Coming in?"
Noah pulled his shirt over his head. Dropped it.
They stripped to boxers. Night air cool on bare skin.
Atlas went first. Down the steps. Water climbing his body—thighs, hips, stomach, chest. He turned.
Waited.
Pool light caught him from below. Turquoise shadows across his face. Water droplets sliding down his shoulders. His chest.
Noah forgot how to move.
This man loves me.
Has loved me for years.
And now—
He followed. Water warm. Silky. Closing around him.
He moved toward Atlas. Stopped when their chests nearly touched.
Atlas's eyes traveled down. Back up. Slow.
"Come here."
Hands finding Noah's hips. Pulling.
Noah let himself be pulled. Chest to chest. Hip to hip. Nothing between them but wet cotton.
Atlas's breath caught.
Noah felt him. Felt everything.
For a moment neither moved. Just breathing. Just looking.
Then Atlas's hand came up. Cupped Noah's jaw.
"Say it again."
Noah blinked. "What?"
"What you said at dinner." Atlas's thumb traced his cheekbone. His voice low. Rough. "I need to hear it again."
Noah's heart slammed against his ribs.
He held Atlas's gaze. Those dark eyes. Waiting. Needing.
"I'm in love with you."
Something shifted in Atlas's face. Cracked open.
"Again."
"I'm in love with you." Noah's hands found Atlas's chest. Felt his heart racing beneath his palm. "I've been in love with you. For so long."
Atlas exhaled. Shaky.
"I'm in love with you too." His forehead dropped to Noah's. "So in love with you. It terrified me. For years it terrified me."
"I know." Noah's fingers traced up his chest. His neck. His jaw. "Me too."
"I don't want to be terrified anymore."
"Then don't be."
Noah closed the distance.
The kiss started soft. Gentle. His lips brushing Atlas's. Once. Twice.
Then Atlas's hand slid into his hair. Gripped. Tilted his head.
The kiss deepened.
Noah opened for him. Atlas's tongue sliding against his. Slow at first. Tasting. Learning.
Noah made a sound. Small. Wanting.
Atlas swallowed it. Kissed him harder. His other hand pressing into Noah's lower back. Pulling their bodies flush.
Noah felt him. Hard against his hip.
He rolled forward. Deliberate.
Atlas groaned into his mouth. Broke the kiss. Breathing ragged.
"Noah—"
"I want you." Simple. True. "I've wanted you for so long."
Atlas's eyes searched his. "You have me. All of me."
He kissed Noah again. Deeper now. His tongue exploring. Claiming.
Noah's hands roamed. Shoulders. Back. The dip of his spine. Memorizing.
Atlas's mouth left his. Trailed down his jaw. His neck.
"You're so beautiful." Murmured against Noah's throat. "Do you know that?"
Teeth grazing his pulse point.
"Every time I looked at you—"
Tongue soothing where teeth had been.
"—I couldn't breathe."
He bit down. Gentle. Then harder.
Noah gasped. His head falling back.
"Atlas—"
"I love how you say my name." Atlas's lips moving lower. Collarbone. Shoulder. "Say it again."
"Atlas." Breathless.
"Again."
"Atlas—"
His mouth found Noah's nipple. Tongue circling. Teeth grazing.
Noah's nails raked down his back.
"God—"
Atlas switched to the other side. Same slow torture.
Noah was trembling now. Every nerve on fire.
"I dreamed about this." Noah managed. "About you. For years."
Atlas lifted his head. Eyes black.
"What did you dream?"
"Your hands on me." Noah took one of those hands. Guided it down his stomach. "Your mouth."
Atlas's fingers traced the edge of his boxers. Paused.
"What else?"
"Everything." Noah's voice cracked. "I dreamed about everything."
Atlas kissed him. Soft. Almost reverent.
Then his hand slipped beneath the fabric.
Noah stopped breathing.
Atlas's forehead pressed to his. Watching his face. His hand moving slow.
"Look at me."
Noah forced his eyes open. Met Atlas's gaze.
"I want to see you." Atlas's voice rough. "Want to watch you fall apart."
His hand moved faster.
Noah couldn't look away. Couldn't think. Could only feel—Atlas's hand, Atlas's eyes, Atlas everywhere.
"You're incredible." Atlas breathed. "The sounds you make. The way you move."
His thumb swept over the tip.
Noah moaned. His hips bucking.
"That's it." Atlas kissed his jaw. "Let me hear you."
"I'm—" Noah could barely form words. "Close—"
Atlas slowed down.
Noah whimpered. "Don't stop—"
"Not yet." Atlas kissed him deep. "I want this to last."
He stroked slow now. Torturous.
Noah's fingers dug into his shoulders. "Please—"
"Please what?"
"Please, Atlas—I need—"
"Tell me what you need."
"You." Broken. "Just you."
Atlas groaned. His control slipping.
He spun them. Noah's back against the infinity edge. Stars above. Sea below. Atlas in front—the only thing that mattered.
"Hold onto me."
Noah wrapped his arms around Atlas's neck.
Atlas lifted him. Noah's legs circling his waist. Weightless in the warm water.
They kissed. Messy now. Desperate. Teeth clashing. Tongues tangling.
Atlas's hand found him again. Stroking faster.
"I love you." Against Noah's mouth. "I love you so much."
"I love you—" Noah gasped. "Atlas—I'm going to—"
"Yes." Atlas's voice wrecked. "Come for me. I want to feel it."
Noah shattered.
Pleasure crashing through him in waves. Atlas's name torn from his throat. His whole body shaking.
Atlas held him through it. Mouth on his neck. Murmuring his name. Over and over.
When Noah could breathe again—trembling, boneless—he reached for Atlas.
Found him still hard. Straining.
"Your turn."
"You don't have to—"
Noah kissed him quiet. His hand wrapping around him.
Atlas's breath caught.
"I want to." Noah stroked slow. "I've wanted to touch you like this. For so long."
Atlas shuddered. His forehead dropping to Noah's shoulder.
"The way you feel." Noah's hand moving steadier. "I used to imagine. Late at night. What you'd feel like."
"Noah—"
"I'd get myself off thinking about you." His grip tightened. "Thinking about this."
Atlas groaned. His hips moving now. Chasing Noah's hand.
"Look at me."
Atlas lifted his head. Eyes glazed. Desperate.
"I love you." Noah said it clear. "I'm in love with you. Completely."
He stroked faster. Watching Atlas's face. Every flicker of pleasure. Every sharp breath.
"Come for me." Soft. "Let go. I've got you."
Atlas broke.
A sound ripping from his chest. Raw. Beautiful. His body shuddering against Noah's. Hands gripping hard.
Noah watched. Mesmerized. This was Atlas with no walls. No control. Just feeling.
Mine.
He's mine.
The aftershocks faded slowly. Atlas slumped against him. Face in Noah's neck. Breathing hard.
Noah held him. Fingers tracing up and down his spine.
The water lapped around them. Gentle.
Atlas lifted his head eventually. Eyes soft now. Open in a way Noah had never seen.
He kissed Noah. Slow. Deep. Taking his time.
"I love you." Against his lips.
"I love you too."
They stayed tangled. Floating together. Noah's back against the pool edge. Atlas's arms around him.
Quiet.
Not empty. Full.
"That was—" Atlas started.
"Yeah."
"I didn't know it could feel like—"
"Me neither."
Soft laughter. Shared breath.
Atlas pressed his lips to Noah's forehead. Lingered.
"Stay with me."
"I'm right here."
"No." His arms tightened. "I mean—after. After this trip. After everything. Stay."
Noah pulled back. Found Atlas's eyes. Vulnerable beneath the surface.
"I'm already yours." Quiet. Certain. "Already staying. Already home."
Atlas smiled. That real one. The one that transformed his entire face.
He kissed Noah again. Soft.
They floated until the water cooled. Until fingers pruned and skin chilled.
Then Atlas lifted him out. Wrapped them in towels. Led him to the daybed.
They lay tangled. Watching stars wheel overhead.
Atlas's hand tracing lazy shapes on Noah's back.
Noah's head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat slow.
"Worth waiting for?" Noah murmured.
Atlas's lips pressed to his hair.
"You have no idea."
Noah smiled against his skin.
The Aegean whispered below. The sky lightening at the edges.
But not yet morning. Not yet real life.
Just them.
Just this.
Everything they'd denied themselves.
Finally theirs.