Thirty-One Ramin
thirty-one
Ramin
Ramin was stunned.
Noah had taken charge. Gotten tickets. Picked out a place. He’d even remembered that Ramin liked the water.
His skin hummed as he power-walked to the bathroom.
Noah wanted him to suck his cock.
He’d even said cock . Out loud.
Was this even real? Maybe Ramin was hallucinating.
Maybe his plane had depressurized on the way to Italy, and he was still in the air, and his entire trip had been a figment of his oxygen-starved imagination because he hadn’t gotten his mask on in time.
Maybe he was dying and all of Milano Centrale around him was some sort of metaphor for him moving on to the next life.
Ramin dropped the euro in the coin slot and pinched his leg as the plexiglass doors parted to let him into the bathroom. A huge stick-figure MEN’S sign to the left pointed the way.
Noah. Wanted him. To suck his cock.
And God, Ramin wanted to suck it. Sucking cock was his favorite. Bringing a guy pleasure, mapping the skin of his dick, finding all the little things that made him moan.
Making him feel good .
The bathroom had nicely tiled walls. And it was surprisingly clean.
Ramin wasn’t above getting dirty for sex, but this was way nicer, even if the scent of disinfectant tickled his nostrils.
The stalls were floor-to-ceiling, big wood-grained things, with red-green lights above them to indicate if they were occupied.
Best of all: No gaps.
Though with his own dick hardening in his shorts, he wasn’t sure a gap would’ve stopped him. Did Italy have public indecency laws? Fuck it. If they did, Ramin would just have to get Noah off in time for them to make a run for it.
He didn’t mind a challenge.
The last stall was blessedly unoccupied, so he took it like Noah had ordered. He turned around, banging his backpack against the stall. Should he hang it on the hook, or would that be in the way? The door wouldn’t open all the way, and he didn’t want Noah to get stuck outside.
His heart was pounding. He never wore tank tops, but he was glad he had today, because otherwise the flop sweat would’ve showed in his pits.
How long was Noah going to keep him waiting? He swallowed against his dry mouth, because he absolutely could not go into this with a dry mouth. He took a few deep breaths, tried to work up some spit. He needed to bring his A game.
He. Was going to suck. Noah’s cock.
It could’ve been seconds, or it could’ve been hours, or, hell, it could’ve been years, but finally, finally , the door swung open.
Noah stepped inside, forcing Ramin back until his calves pressed against the toilet.
They jostled each other a bit until Noah could get his own backpack inside and close the door.
Noah flipped the lock and turned back to face Ramin, his eyes molten.
His voice was molten, too. “Pretty sure I said on your knees. Nerd.”
Ramin’s entire body shivered. He obeyed.
He grabbed some toilet paper on the way down, though. If he was at home, he’d put a pillow under his knees. He wasn’t twenty anymore.
Noah spread his feet a bit to make room, framing Ramin with his legs, stepping forward once Ramin was situated. He pressed the fullness in the front of his shorts against Ramin’s face.
Ramin looked up at Noah. Noah looked down at him. Time stood still.
Something crossed Noah’s face, a fleeting look that Ramin couldn’t place, but it was banished as Noah’s dark eyes sharpened.
“Are you just going to stare at me?”
Ramin swallowed again. He was hot all over. Feverish. He shivered again as he reached for Noah’s waistband. The chinos were smooth and cool, despite the warmth emanating from Noah’s skin. He popped the button, fought the zipper for a moment before finally pulling it down, opening the shorts—
Ramin forgot how to breathe.
Noah wasn’t wearing his ugly plaid boxers.
He wasn’t wearing nice trunks or briefs or a sexy jockstrap. He wasn’t even commando.
No.
Shiny blue spandex waited for Ramin, trimmed in silver, disappearing up into Noah’s shirt and down into his legs. Ramin pulled the shorts farther down to behold Noah’s bulge, trapped in the singlet.
“Oh my God,” he moaned.
“Shh,” Noah said, and he actually sounded a bit nervous.
But he didn’t move as Ramin brought his hands up to frame the warm length hardening just behind the sleek fabric.
One hand left Noah’s cock just long enough to run up the singlet, finding the straps that framed his firm chest; the other pressed hard against Noah’s cock until Noah let out a soft gasp of pleasure.
He wanted to touch every inch of Noah. Feel every ridge of muscle, every divot, every dimple.
Trace them with his fingers, with his lips, with his tongue.
He loved worshipping his partner. Had always tried to do it with Todd.
Todd’s body had been beautiful, but he had never let Ramin worship him.
Every time Ramin picked a spot, he complained about how it wasn’t as developed as he wanted to be.
Fuck Todd and his insecurities.
Ramin wanted to feast on Noah. He would have, too, if Noah let him, if they had time before the train, if Ramin didn’t already feel the tingle in his legs as they started to fall asleep.
He satisfied himself with another squeeze of Noah’s pec.
Noah cleared his throat. Ramin looked back up.
Noah’s voice had gone gentle. “If you want to stop, say ‘red light.’ Okay?”
Ramin couldn’t believe Noah knew what a safe word was.
Ramin couldn’t believe he needed a safe word with Noah.
He nodded his understanding. Gripped Noah’s cock harder. It was still growing beneath his hand.
“Good.” Noah’s voice hardened again. “I thought I said suck it.”
Every one of Ramin’s nerves lit up like the Plaza lights. He couldn’t stop himself as he jammed his face against Noah’s bulge, planting his mouth on the warmth hiding beneath the thin fabric. He tasted polyester and sweat, smelled skin and musk, felt the growing heat against his face.
He imagined Noah’s sweat soaking into the singlet after a hard match. His honeyed precum leaking as Ramin worked him over. Ramin planted his lips around the outline of Noah’s head and sucked hard.
Noah let out a soft hiss and pushed his hips forward to meet Ramin’s desperate mouth.
“Not too wet. I still have to wear this on the train.”
Ramin leaned back. “Sorry.” He had to remember to breathe. “This is so hot.”
“Did I say stop?” Noah growled. “Take it out.”
Ramin’s own cock ached in his shorts, flexing uncontrollably.
He’d been waiting for this.
He trailed his fingers along the silver trim of Noah’s left leg hole. He slid his hand in, felt the heat grow as he gripped Noah’s trapped cock and finally freed it.
There should’ve been angels singing. Sunlight bathing the scene through a hole in the roof. Confetti falling in slow motion. Hell, even a balloon drop.
Noah’s cock was a thing of beauty.
It twitched and pulsed and grew before Ramin, lifting itself toward his mouth as it reached its full hardness. It was perfectly shaped, well proportioned, the skin smooth, slightly darker than Noah’s face. A vein traced down the top, slightly off center.
And fuck was it big.
Not an asswrecker—not something truly frightening—but not far off, either. Ramin’s heart sped up. His ass puckered in anticipation.
Ramin had never been a size queen. Todd’s dick had been average, and they’d had a fulfilling and delightful sex life. But damn. Maybe it was time for a coronation.
Ramin inhaled Noah’s musk. Honey and wood and sweet-and-sour ball sweat. His whole body was buzzing. A droplet of sweat traced a path behind his ear and down his neckline.
He looked up at Noah again. Had he said something?
“Huh?”
“Condom?” Noah held up the foil packet.
Ramin stared at the XXL in black block letters.
On the one hand, safe sex was important. Really fucking important.
On the other hand, he was negative across the board.
And on the third leg, he thought he might die, literally die, if he didn’t taste Noah’s cock.
“You really haven’t been with anyone since the divorce?”
“Really.”
“I’m on PrEP. I’m good without it if you are.”
Noah cocked his head for a second, then slipped the condom away.
“All right.” His eyes sharpened again, his brows furrowed, his voice lowered to a growl. “I’ve seen the way you stare at me. When you think I’m not looking. You want this?”
He hefted his cock and smacked it against Ramin’s face. Ramin hoped it wouldn’t leave a mark.
Actually, fuck that. He hoped it would .
He wanted Noah to mark him.
He stuck out his tongue, met Noah’s piercing gaze.
Fuck his legs falling asleep. He could stay like this forever.
As long as Noah gave him his cock.
“Then get to it. We’ve got a train to catch.”
Fuck, this was really happening.
Ramin leaned in. He started with little kisses of Noah’s inner thighs, but Noah gave a grunt of impatience, so Ramin moved to kissing his balls, bathing them with his tongue, sucking gently on the tender skin. Noah tasted like man. Like hard work. Like sun and salt and heaven.
Ramin released Noah’s balls and ran his tongue in one long, slow move up the underside of Noah’s cock, paying close attention to the way Noah’s breath hitched.
He made out with the tip, collected the thread of precum before it could escape, traced the dark line of Noah’s circumcision scar.
Then he worked up as much spit as he could and wrapped his lips around Noah’s head.
“Yeah,” Noah murmured. “Just like that.”
Ramin’s dick felt like it was going to snap in two. He reached for it, but Noah kneed his arm out of the way.
“Did I say you could touch yourself? You get off when I say you get off.”
Ramin’s chest tightened and he nearly came in his pants. Holy shit, Noah was into this.
Ramin was too. He sucked harder and brought his hand up to stroke the part of Noah’s cock that didn’t fit in his mouth. Yet. The skin was warm and smooth, Noah’s hair soft and a little wild as it tickled the back of Ramin’s hand.