Twenty-One Ramin
twenty-one
Ramin
Ramin woke to an azure sky and a streak of golden sunrise reflecting off the lake below. He squinted.
He’d shifted during the night, and something heavy lay upon his arm, and oh holy fuck he was holding Noah. Spooning him. Arms wrapped tight around Noah’s strong, warm chest. Hips tucked snugly against Noah’s. Feet tangled at the foot of the bed, still wrapped in the soft, cozy blankets.
And disaster of disasters: He was hard.
Not just morning wood. This was morning iron. Morning titanium. Morning diamond, tucked up against Noah’s ass.
He tried not to flex it but couldn’t help it.
Fuckety-fuckety-fuck! He’d been so careful to face away last night. When did he start spooning Noah? Damn that gap in the bed. It had sucked him down like quicksand in a nineties movie.
He never should’ve shared a bed. He should’ve slept on the floor. Hell, he should’ve grabbed a blanket and slept in the bathtub or something.
Ramin thought about spreadsheets. He thought about his inbox at work. He thought about that time Todd tried a new chemical peel and he was allergic to it and it left his face all red and weird.
Nothing worked. If anything, he was getting harder, his dick throbbing with the beat of his bounding heart.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, Noah shifted back against him. He snuffled and smacked his lips.
“Morning.”
Noah’s voice rumbled, low and scratchy and pure sex, reverberating right through Ramin’s core. Ramin clenched up, swallowing a whimper as his dick flexed again.
Noah had to notice.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know how I… I mean, I didn’t mean to…”
Ramin tried to pull away, but Noah held on to his arms, kept him close.
“It’s okay.” Noah backed up again. “I’m hard too.”
Ramin’s brain short-circuited.
Noah took Ramin’s hand and twined their fingers, guiding Ramin to rub soft circles on his chest. Even through Noah’s borrowed shirt, Ramin could feel the warm, firm swell of his chest muscles.
“You feel so good holding me,” Noah murmured. “Is this okay?”
Ramin’s breath hitched. “Uh. Huh?”
Was it okay?
It was everything .
“You can touch me more.”
Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck!
Ramin was still asleep, that’s what it was.
He was dreaming. Having a sex dream about Noah.
It wasn’t the first time, after all, though this one was more realistic than the last one had been.
Yeah, that’s what this was, just another sex dream.
He’d wake up with wet sticky underwear, and oh God please don’t let Noah notice—
Ramin bit his lip but didn’t wake. Noah was still moving Ramin’s hand in circles around his firm stomach. But then they stilled.
“Ramin?”
Ramin was amazed he could make his voice work. His throat felt like sandpaper. “Yeah?”
“Do you… not like this?”
Noah released him.
“I’m sorry, I thought… I mean, I just…”
Ramin brought his hand back to Noah’s stomach. Was this really real?
Who cared?
“I like it.”
He’d wanted to touch Noah ever since he saw him.
“I like it too.” Noah let out a rumbling sigh. And then: “You can go lower.”
Fuck if Ramin needed to be told twice.
Heat rose as Ramin reached the waistband of Noah’s boxers. His fingers moved on their own, stroking the skin of Noah’s waist, playing with his happy trail, before slipping under the elastic.
Holy shit.
“You sure?” Ramin paused with his hands in Noah’s soft, silky hair.
“I wanted you since I saw you in that gelato shop.”
Ramin could barely breathe. “Really?”
“Can’t you tell?”
Ramin slid his hand lower, and fuck.
Fuck.
He could tell.
Noah’s breath hitched as Ramin wrapped his hand around his cock. It was hot and hard, the tight skin silky smooth. And it was big.
Very big.
Ramin’s fingertips barely met around it.
“Fuck, it’s true,” he murmured.
Noah shivered at his touch. Ramin gave him a tentative stroke down his full length to cradle his heavy balls.
“What’s true?”
Ramin swallowed. His own dick jumped.
“Your dick is huge.”
Noah huffed. “You heard about that?”
“ Everyone heard about it.”
“You never said anything.”
Ramin stroked Noah again, tighter this time, a languid slide up to twist around Noah’s head. Noah gasped.
“What was I supposed to say? I thought I was straight.” Ramin fought with Noah’s waistband to finally free him. Gave him another long stroke. “I thought you were, too.”
“I’m bi,” Noah sighed. “Oh, Ramin…”
Noah was bi? Holy shit. Ramin needed to process that. Needed to reevaluate every single interaction he’d ever had with Noah.
But first he needed to get him off.
“You like this?” he whispered in Noah’s ear.
“Uh-huh.”
Ramin traced his thumb along Noah’s circumcision scar. Ran it up to collect the honey that had begun oozing. God he wanted to taste it.
Fuck it. He was on PrEP.
Noah whimpered as Ramin released him, licked the salty sweetness off his thumb. “How long has it been since someone did this for you?”
“I haven’t been with anyone since the divorce.”
Two years? That was practically a crime against humanity.
It was Ramin’s solemn, moral duty to break that drought.
“That’s a long fucking time, Noah.”
Ramin hocked up as much saliva as he could and spat into his hand before reaching for Noah’s cock again.
“Oh,” Noah purred as Ramin’s slick fist wrapped around him again. “Oh. Ramin.”
Ramin stroked farther down, trailing wetness onto Noah’s balls. He unclenched his fist to rub them with every downstroke. He wished his other hand was free—aside from Noah being a two-hander, he could’ve given his balls more love—but his arm was still trapped under Noah and falling asleep.
Ramin didn’t care. Let it fall asleep. Let it fall off.
He. Had his hand. On Noah’s cock.
He built up speed, added a little twist to the end, as Noah bucked and his dick surged. Ramin’s own dick was leaking into his underwear now, the warm dew turning cold, and he didn’t even care.
The bed had turned into a sauna around them. Noah’s dick kept getting harder and heavier, the warm skin yielding to Ramin’s touch, the tacky sweet smell of Ramin’s saliva mixing with Noah’s sweat.
Noah was glowing. So was Ramin. No, that was the sunrise, spilling over them, turning the bed to liquid gold.
Ramin freed Noah’s dick again to gather more spit, and Noah let out another groan of protest, but Ramin got right back on him, jacking harder. Noah’s dick was flexing more rapidly now, practically jumping out of Ramin’s hand, and he held Noah tightly by the base to hold off his climax.
“Ramin, please,” Noah gasped. His voice had gone high and breathy.
“Please what?” Ramin gave Noah another long, slow stroke.
“Let me finish.”
Ramin chuckled. Apparently Noah was too shy to say Make me come .
But that’s what he was going to do.
He kept his pressure even but picked up his pace, focusing on Noah’s full head, adding a solid glide down to Noah’s balls every fourth stroke or so, going for more saliva when things got too dry.
If only his bags weren’t in Amsterdam or Istanbul or wherever the hell they’d landed now, he would’ve had his good lube. But this was okay.
This was better than okay.
He was giving Noah Bartlett a handjob.
Noah Bartlett wanted a handjob. From him.
Ramin’s heart raced. His taint tingled. His ass clenched.
If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake.
Noah whined as Ramin gripped his head and rubbed it with his palm. He shuddered as Ramin varied his strokes. He sighed as Ramin tugged on his balls. His dick jumped with every breath.
“Ramin,” he gasped. “Ramin, I’m…”
Noah’s dick began pulsing in Ramin’s hand, thrashing, nearly surging out of Ramin’s grip. He grunted a long, low breath as he came, shaking in Ramin’s arms, while Ramin stroked him through the entire orgasm, relishing every spasm, feeling Noah’s hot seed on his hand.
Ramin’s ass tightened. Ecstasy sparked in his core. He nearly came himself when Noah ground back against him, but he bit his lip and clenched his Kegel muscles and kept it in.
He didn’t want anything to distract him from the feel of Noah spurting in his hands.
When Noah was finally spent, Ramin gave him one final strong, lazy stroke, milking the entire length of his cock before releasing it.
Noah sighed. “That was amazing.”
Ramin nearly purred with pride.
Fuck yeah it was.
Ramin just gave Noah Bartlett a handjob.
Ramin just had his hand on Noah’s huge cock.
Should he… kiss Noah? Would that be okay?
Now that the haze of sex had lifted, a thousand questions and worries and insecurities rushed in. This wasn’t a dream. This was real life.
What was he supposed to do now?
He settled on tucking Noah back into his boxers and planting a feather-soft kiss on his shoulder.
In response, Noah scooted back.
“What are you doing?”
“Scooch back, I don’t want to get your shirt messy,” Noah said.
“But—”
Noah gave another scoot. The problem was, there was no more bed.
Ramin tumbled off the end with an oof .
But then Noah was right above him. Legs around Ramin’s. Arms bracketing Ramin’s shoulders. Eyes glowing with desire. His silver cross had escaped his shirt and dangled down, resting against Ramin’s collarbone, warmed by Noah’s body heat.
“You okay?”
Ramin nodded.
“Good.” Noah’s smile turned cocky. “I needed room to do this.”
And then he leaned down and pressed his lips to Ramin’s.
Noah’s lips were soft, full, luscious. Perfect.
The kiss was chaste at first, gentle pressure against Ramin’s lips as lightning danced across every inch of his skin.
Until something inside him cracked and he opened his mouth to sigh in relief, in ecstasy.
Noah took the opening, plunging his tongue in to tap against Ramin’s teeth.
Ramin opened further, let Noah in deeper, slid his tongue along Noah’s, felt Noah rumbling in pleasure above him.
Noah’s stubble scratched against Ramin’s chin. Ramin’s hands rose to clutch at Noah’s shoulders. Ramin’s dick, which had deflated when he fell off the bed, came roaring back to life.
Noah shifted his weight to one hand and used the other to reach for Ramin’s waistband. Ramin clenched his stomach as Noah’s knuckles brushed the skin there.
Noah Bartlett wanted to touch him.
His fingertips had just slid below the elastic when someone knocked on the door.
The room snapped back into focus. Bright light. The muffled ding of the elevator in the hallway. A rapidly cooling pool of cum in the bedsheets. Their bodies tangled on the floor.
Noah reared back, brows furrowed in confusion.
Another knock.
“Dad?”
They both froze.
“Dad? You up?”
Noah’s eyes widened in panic. He swallowed.
“Yeah, Jakey,” he said, but he sounded like a Muppet. Noah cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m up.”
“Can I come in?”
Ramin didn’t think Noah’s eyes could get any wider, but he’d been wrong. Before, Noah had looked alarmed. Now he looked like he needed to vomit.
Ramin shook his head. Say no!
“Uh. Ramin just woke up,” Noah lied, then winced.
God, Ramin wanted to curl up and disappear.
God, he wanted to pull Noah down and keep kissing, taste the hot skin of his neck, the dip of his collarbone…
“What’s up, buddy?” Noah called. “Everything okay?”
“There’s breakfast downstairs. Mom says to hurry. She found a bus back.”
A bus back.
Fuck. Noah had to go.
Noah was here with his family .
It was so absurd, Ramin stifled a laugh. Was this what it felt like, getting caught by your parents? Ramin had never experienced it.
Noah kept his voice even. “I’ll be down soon, buddy. Okay?”
Noah stared at the door a second—they both did, waiting for the coast to be clear—and then Noah brought his hand to Ramin’s chin, rested his thumb right below Ramin’s lip. Came in for another kiss, smooth as silk.
“Talk about bad timing.”
Ramin nodded. He shifted to kiss the pad of Noah’s thumb. “It’s okay. You can go.”
“I can’t just leave you like this.”
He very much could. Jake had been such a bonerkiller, Ramin’s dick might’ve actually inverted all the way into his abdomen.
But the way Noah was looking at him, maybe he could—
“Dad!” Jake’s voice came again, and Ramin nearly jumped out of his skin. “They’ve got waffles!”
Noah’s arm gave out, and he collapsed onto Ramin, covering his oof with his own low laughter.
“Sorry,” Noah whispered.
“I told you. It’s okay. Go be with your family.”
Actually, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Ramin needed a moment to process everything that had just happened. Actually, several moments.
After all, a lot had happened.
“I’ll be fine. Really.”
Noah looked doubtful, lips drawn into a pout. Ramin wanted to kiss him again, but then Noah might never get down to breakfast, and then Jake—or Angela—would interrupt them again, and Ramin would die of embarrassment.
Noah got off him, ducked into the bathroom, and pulled on his shorts. Ramin only let himself be a little disappointed he’d never actually laid eyes on Noah’s Ark.
“Can I ’orrow dis?” Noah mumbled around the flimsy hotel toothbrush, plucking at his borrowed (and thankfully un-cum-stained) shirt.
“Of course.”
Ramin managed to pull himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. He watched as Noah scurried around the room, grabbing his things, slipping on his shoes, patting his pockets, tucking his cross into his shirt.
“Text me when you get back into town. Yeah? Or I’ll text you?”
Noah wanted them to text. Did Noah want to see him again? Or just sort out returning Ramin’s shirt? What did this mean? Had this been a one-time thing, a horny morning mistake? Did Noah like him like him, or had he just been a warm body and a talented (if he did say so himself) hand?
Everything had made perfect sense while they were having sex, but now, in the cold light of day, what the actual fuck had Ramin been thinking?
This wasn’t the plan.
Well… getting dick was definitely the plan. But not a familiar dick. He should’ve been waking up in some Italian stranger’s bed, taking a walk of shame. Getting over his breakup by getting under a revolving door of men. He was supposed to be rebounding!
Not watching Noah tie his shoes.
Noah swooped in for another kiss. Two.
A third, letting his lips linger, his forehead resting against Ramin’s.
Ramin leaned in.
Fuck. Whatever Noah was thinking, Ramin was along for the ride.
Noah hesitated at the door, looking back, giving Ramin one last, perfect smile.
“See you soon.”
The door swung shut.
Ramin let out a breath.
Had that really just happened? It had. He could feel his precum all sticky and cold in his underwear. The room smelled of sex and Noah.
Noah Bartlett had kissed him.
The tiniest of smiles dawned across Ramin’s face, soft and subtle, before exploding into a laugh.
Noah Bartlett had kissed him. He’d kissed Noah back.
He’d kissed Noah Bartlett. And he thought—he hoped—he might get to do it again.