Jesus' eyes widened an imperceptible amount as he took in the sight of Noah, naked, before him.
Fumbling for something witty, he said, "So the ark's not the only bit of wood my father gave you."
Noah grinned – his grey eyes flashing in lust. "Your father isn't the only one who gives me wood."
Jesus laughed. "I can see that." He reached for the hem of his tunic and began to tug it roughly over his head, revealing his chiselled torso, a gift from his dad. Noah watched, hungrily, as he slipped out of the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a son-of-godly heap on the floor.
Jesus stopped when he was in his underwear, a little embarrassed. He was the son of the creator of the entire universe, and he couldn't get some decent boxer-briefs.
Noah's eyebrows shot up in acknowledgement of his Spiderman-patterned crotch. "A Christmas gift…" he trailed off, hoping that was explanation enough.
"Hey, no, it's okay," Noah smiled, his eyes creasing in amusement, "I can't say mine are any better." He reached for his own pair – inside out, on the dresser – and flipped them around so that Jesus could more plainly see the leopard print transfer.
"I like them," Jesus cocked an eyebrow, considering how fitting it was that Noah should wear animal-printed boxers. "Do you have two pairs of those as well?"
Noah just smiled, tossing the underwear aside, and began to saunter forward lazily, completely aware of the effect the sight of his own throbbing member was having on Jesus, whose prominent, holy erection was now shamelessly calling to him from within the red and blue briefs.
Backing onto the cheap motel bed (nobody picked l'Hôtel de la Genèse for it's luxury accommodation – there were strip clubs in downtown Nazareth with higher standards), Jesus let Noah remove his underwear with his teeth, letting out a fervent moan at the pressure of Noah's removal against his own quivering shaft.
Jesus' eyes rolled back in his skull as Noah, as a reaction to his previous utterance, began to pursue the motion, small sounds of pleasure emanating from the back of his throat.
"The beard," Jesus moaned quietly, "it tickles…" He heard a soft laugh in reply, as the older man crept forward, the two moving backwards together on the bed, until Jesus' head was inches from the shabby fabric headboard. Noah began with gentle caresses, pressing his lips to Jesus' washboard abs, slowly working his way down.
Jesus cried out in passion as Noah's lips reached his substantial manhood, and began to fellate; he was a master with his tongue, caressing expertly with a sensitive, yet dangerous, touch. To Jesus' intense shame, it did not last very long at all.
But Noah had other plans. The two began to kiss passionately, locked in a fiery embrace on the dirty sheets; Jesus did things with his tongue that Noah had never felt before – his phallus quivered with the intensity of it all. Jesus pulled back, lust aflame in his eyes. He leaned in to Noah's ear and whispered, in honeyed tones, a final commandment.
"Thou shalt bend over."
Noah complied, and Jesus – the evidence of his passion completely recovered from his earlier emission – lowered his hips until they hovered, thighs tense with anticipation, behind Noah's smooth, toned backside.
Like a wild, untameable beast tensed to spring, Jesus licked his swollen lips before thrusting forward with savage desire. He smiled at Noah's sharp intake of breath as he adjusted to the sheer size of Jesus' love-sword.
"Yes!" Noah cried out in passion, "Jesus Christ!"
"I'm right here, baby," Jesus grunted, "right…here…"
For a while the only sounds that filled the room were the steady, rhythmic creak of bedsprings; the soft male panting and moaning from both men; and the gentle, intimate slap of skin on skin. Jesus' face was contorted with concentration and erotic pleasure, until – finally – he erupted in Noah's anal cavity, letting loose an orgasmic cry. The two lay back on the sheets, breathing heavily, wrapped loosely in each other's arms.
"Father," Jesus panted, "for…forgive him."
Noah laughed breathlessly, and the two lay there together, on the edge of consciousness, listening to the music of the night, wafting in through the high window. The décor of the room hinted at what may have once been a slight sense of grandeur – the curtain printed with a pattern of wine glasses and fish.
A loud shout from the distant night penetrated the otherwise silent atmosphere.
"I think that's the sound of somebody being mugged," Jesus murmured, his brow creasing with tension. "Well, that means there are miracles to perform – I'd better…" He trailed off as he looked down and took in the sigh of Noah, who had lapsed into unconsciousness, his lips parted with a slight smile. Disentangling himself from Noah's arms and rising gently from the bed, Jesus pulled the stained sheet up and covered his lover's body, leaning over to plant one last kiss on his forehead.
The son of God straightened up, and reached for his Spiderman boxer-briefs.
As he gazed down at Noah's sleeping form, Jesus smiled triumphantly to himself, and whispered fervently into the night. "I will come again."