The event is as extravagant as they advertised. There are at least five perfume companies he's come across giving out full size bottles of perfume and cologne, and there are plenty more giving out free samples. Noah has found his online friends and is walking around the event with them, chatting while smelling samples.
"Oh, did you hear about the lady going around the event and smelling everyone?" one says.
"Jesus Christ, are you kidding? How tacky."
"I know, right? She's got a bag of coffee beans that she smells in between. She looks like a hillbilly."
"Is it someone we know?" Noah asks, picking up another sample.
"Fuck, I forget her name. Ah, shit, she... oh! She came out with that new perfume in the spring! Wait, you did a livestream on it, remember?"
"Y/N?!" he almost gawks, body burning, eyes wide. His friends slowly smirk, giving him knowing stares.
"Ah, yeah, Y/N. She looks good too. She's got this tight dress on and—oh, hey, there she is."
Noah whips around, eyes searching before they fall on you. Shit, you do look good. You're wearing this skin tight two piece outfit that you fill out so well and some white heels, and you're laughing with some other women as you walk. He wonders if you're wearing your collab perfume. Would it smell better if it settled on your skin or your hair? Would it drive him even crazier—fuck, you're walking over here.
He turns quickly to look back at the table as his group greets yours. Your voice sticks out to him, so sweet and cheery within all the noise of the event. He can't look at you. What if he gets hard? What if he does so and you notice? God, that would be so fucking embarrassing that he could die—
"C'mon, Noah, quit being shy," his friend says as he turns Noah around to face you. Despite how he's treated you online, you still smile kindly at him.
"H-Hi Y/N..." he mumbles.
"I kinda figured you'd show up to this, but I wasn't sure if we'd bump into each other! Small world, right?"
"Oh, I just have to know what you smell like."
Before he can react, you've approached him, grabbing his suit and pulling him down so you can take a deep breath from his neck.
"Oh. My. God." You take another whiff. "Holy fuck, you smell good! I'm definitely getting the leather, but I can smell amber too and it's soooo good. What are you wearing?"
"T... Tom F-Ford's Tuscan Leather..."
"Oh my god, seriously?! I can't believe it! I mean, it smelled good in the store, but I didn't think it'd smell this good on somebody else! I wanna get their Lost Cherry sooooo bad but I just can't justify the price point—"
He can't focus. You're so close, and you smell so good. It has to be your collab perfume, but somehow it smells even better on you, so floral and divine. He wants to smell you more, but he stays still as you keep sniffing his neck and collar. Shit, he feels his cock pulsing. If you get any closer to him, he might pop the biggest boner he's ever had—
"Jeez, Y/N!" one of the women says, pulling you away from him. "You've sniffed, like, every guy at this gala. You've gotta chill out!"
"Sorry, sorry!" you say to the group. "I can't help it! I gotta find the perfect perfume so I can make my future boyfriend wear it!"
'Future boyfriend': does that mean you don't have a boyfriend now? Are you single? How can you be single when you look and smell so good? Noah watches as you pull out a small bag off coffee beans and stick your nose in the opening. Fuck, you're so fucking cute—
"You ladies busy later? Wanna join us for dinner?" his friend asks, and Noah suddenly can't stop thinking about sitting next to you during dinner, that delicious perfume clouding his senses.
"Nah, we're good," one of the other women says. "We're gonna have a girl's night, but thanks for offering."
"Well, don't have too much fun."
"We will!" you beam, saying your goodbye's before dragging your friends off. "C'mon, I wanna see if Coach has full size bottles!"
Noah watches you go, focused on the sway of your hips as you walk away. His friend shakes his shoulder, bringing him back to the present.
"Dude. Your dick is popping out."
Noah panics, looking down just to find that his pants aren't tented. The other men laugh.
