Chapter 12
Twelve
Anxiety was an old friend for Rami. The world was loud for him—and overwhelming. It was often too bright and brash and sharp. There were days it was easier to bear, and it often gave people the impression that it wasn’t as bad on those days. They didn’t understand that sometimes he just had the ability to manage it better than others.
But it was always the same.
Nothing was ever quiet. Or soft. And rarely was the world kind.
He used to viciously envy Ahmed for his deafness. The idea that he didn’t have to deal with all the noise was Rami’s dream. He would miss music, of course. Music had been important to him growing up. Being away from Beirut, their parents had attempted to instill a sense of home in their children through food and song and language—and Rami appreciated it for what it was.
When he pulled up a sense memory of his childhood, it was the sound of his dad’s records, and the smell of his mom’s cooking, and the sound of laughter and chatter in Arabic that was kinder on his tongue than English ever had been.
But outside the walls of his house, very few things brought comfort. And nothing ever brought stillness.
Until he met Skye. Rami had been trying to work through how the man made him feel since he’d tumbled into his yard, and it was tonight that he realized for the first time ever, he felt safe with another person. At least, another person who wasn’t related to him.
Skye’s presence alone calmed his heart. His laugh calmed his breathing. His smile made his skin heat and his fingers tingle. The way he touched Rami made him want to melt bonelessly into the bed and let Skye love all over him for hours and hours.
He might have asked for that, too, if he didn’t know that it was an irrational request, and Skye had better things to do than spoil Rami’s mind, heart, and body all day. But it was a nice thought.
This was enough though. It was the look in Skye’s eyes when he said he wanted to be there for Rami after the live that made him feel like a bunch of Skye’s keys fit perfectly into Rami’s locks. Skye was protective, and maybe if the request had come from someone else, Rami might have wanted to run.
But with Skye, he wanted to submit.
He felt settled for the first time since leaving home and going quiet on his family so he could fix the financial problem his grandfather had left behind.
For a while, he hadn’t been sure how he felt about Skye jumping into the bids. The money had been too much for such a small thing. His last toy bid had only gone for a thousand dollars. Skye’s had been just short of five figures, and Rami was still reeling. He knew Skye was wealthy—he just hadn’t realized how wealthy.
The thought made him nervous inside, but he was pinning that for later because he wanted to enjoy his lover’s body. He wanted to push boundaries right to the edge of breaking them. He wanted to toy with letting Skye have the few forbidden things Rami had told himself he would not be giving up without a price because it would feel that much better.
That much more satisfying.
And he was starting to realize that in spite of the fact that he did see all of this as a job, and it was easy to emotionally disconnect from it all, he wasn’t sure he could let another person touch him. It was a problem he’d need to solve.
Just…not today. Not tonight.
Not now .
“You okay?” Skye asked quietly.
Rami turned just as they passed the threshold of the bedroom and glanced at Skye’s ears to make sure he was still wearing his hearing aids before he answered aloud. “Yes.”
“You seem a little…anxious?” Skye’s voice rose at the end like he was asking a question, and Rami realized then his lover was unsure.
It was a strange thought because Rami knew there was no way Skye was this hesitant or shy with his clients. At least, not unless they were paying him to be. He was probably many things for pay—a myriad of personalities he could turn off and on.
Rami wished he could see them all. He wished he could see Skye’s switch flipped. To see what kind of man he became when he was acting as Gluttony. It made his cocks harden and throb in his jeans, and he rubbed his palm over them.
Skye sucked in a breath, his pupils dilating, and he licked his lips. “Are you turned on?”
Rami nodded his fist.
Skye shut the door behind him, then closed the distance between them, taking Rami by the hips. “What has you worked up?”
“You,” Rami said. His voice was a barely there breath, the way it always was when he was overwhelmed. He raised a hand and switched to slow sign. ‘You.’
Skye’s gaze flickered down, then back up. “Just me?”
Rami wanted to tell him, but he didn’t think Skye had the lexicon to understand it all in ASL, and frankly, he wanted to explain the things he was thinking when they both had a clear head. So he nodded.
It wasn’t a lie, anyway. Just being near Skye got him worked up in ways he never thought he could be.
Letting out a soft hum, Skye moved one hand to Rami’s jaw, tilting his head up to kiss him. His other hand rucked up Rami’s shirt, fingers seeking and finding bare skin. The touch was perfect—not too heavy but not painfully light.
It was delicate, tender, careful.
He kissed Rami like every pulse of his tongue was a gift. He swallowed down his moans, breathed in his breath, body surging into him and moving in time like Rami was a rhythm only Skye could hear.
“Bed,” Skye murmured when the kiss broke. He backed Rami toward it, and he knew exactly how many steps were between his door and the place where he slept, so he was prepared when the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he collapsed onto the covers.
It was unmade because the only time he tidied his sleeping space was when he was filming. Skye didn’t seem to mind or notice as he bracketed Rami’s head, hands pressed into the bed, looking down at him with a hungry expression.
“Tell me what we can do,” Skye said.
Rami swallowed heavily, then lifted his hands because there was no way he was going to be able to speak. ‘Kissing.’
Skye chuckled softly and dropped down to press his lips to Rami’s jaw. “Got that one down. Next?”
‘Touch me all over.’
Skye lifted one hand and dragged his palm from Rami’s throat to his groin. His cocks jumped, and he wished he was naked. “Next.”
‘Your mouth.’ Rami took Skye’s wrist and dragged it a little lower until he was palming his cocks. ‘Here.’
Skye shuddered and nodded. “Yes.”
“I…I can’t,” Rami stuttered aloud, then pushed Skye backward a little more so he had free signing space. ‘I can’t do it to you. Not yet.’
Skye’s face darkened. “Is that something you plan to put in the auction?”
Rami shrugged. ‘Maybe. I’ve never…’ He shrugged and tapped his mouth. ‘Not like this.’
“Am I allowed to bid?”
Rami felt white-hot heat rushing through him, and he sat up on his elbows, looking at Skye. He gave himself a moment to find his words. “Are you allowed to do things with me on camera?”
Skye frowned. It wasn’t the expression Rami wanted to see, but he knew it was a question he had to ask. They hadn’t talked much about it, but Skye had rules. Of course he had rules. Every facet of his life revolved around him being a Sin—even if it was just background noise, it was always there.
“I can’t show my face,” Skye told him. “No one can know it’s me.”
‘Is that too much?’
Skye met his gaze, and for once in his life—for a brief moment—Rami couldn’t look away. “Not for you. Nothing’s ever too much when it comes to you.”
Rami shuddered, then grabbed Skye by the face and dragged him into a frantic kiss. Skye met his energy, tongue thick, wet, hot, pulsing in and out of his mouth, sliding along his own. He pinned Rami by the hips and rocked against him.
In spite of wanting something else, Rami felt his orgasm cresting, rising unexpectedly at the base of his spine and rushing through his limbs. His vision whited out, and he moaned loudly as he began to meet Skye thrust for thrust.
Skye’s body was trembling with need, trembling maybe because he was holding back. But Rami’s fingers drifted under his shirt, nails dragging along his skin, and Skye let out a sharp cry. Just as Rami felt his cocks exploding in his boxers, he felt Skye’s whole body shudder to a halt. His moans stopped, his breathing stilled.
Then, he let out a chest-deep groan, and Rami knew then that he’d come. His own orgasm felt almost like an afterthought in the wake of Skye’s. It was like Rami could feel the echo of his lover’s passion in the space between them.
Skye’s body went lax, pinning Rami back to the mattress, and the weight was the most comfortable Rami had been in a long, long time.
“Am I crushing you?” Skye asked after a beat.
Rami laughed. “No. I like it.”
Skye let a little more weight fall on him. It was harder to breathe, but it was still nice. Then, Skye turned his face and kissed Rami along his jaw. “I haven’t done that in a long time. Since I was sixteen, maybe. God.”
“Bad?” Rami asked.
Skye pulled back, his face full of surprise. “No. Amazing . The best. I’m so fucking wild about you, sweetheart. I mean, seriously, I’m kind of starting to think I’m obsessed.”
Rami flushed and turned his gaze away. The words should have scared him, but coming from Skye, they were different. Social propriety told Rami this was too fast.
But his gut disagreed, and so did his heart.
This felt far too real. Too right .
He let himself bask for a bit, but eventually, the sensation of drying come in his boxers was too much for him to handle. He eased Skye to the side, then sat up. “I have spare clothes,” he said, pitching his voice to the tone he knew Skye could hear best. “Do you want to shower with me?”
Skye blinked at him, then smiled. “Yeah. Can I wash you?”
“Yes,” Rami said. He pushed up off the bed and felt Skye’s gaze almost like a physical touch as he moved around his room. He collected a couple of pairs of sweats—the ones he liked least for Skye since he figured Skye wouldn’t mind as much—and two T-shirts. Turning, he smiled at Skye, who was on his side, head propped up on his elbow, and he held out his hand. “Yalla, habibi.”
Skye’s grin spread as he took Rami’s hand and climbed to his feet. Instead of letting Rami pull him toward the bathroom, he tugged him closer and traced a touch around his mouth. “Say that again.”
Rami did.
“Beautiful,” Skye murmured. “Your language is beautiful on your lips.”
Rami shuddered, then kissed him again before picking up his hands and kissing his palms. “Your language is beautiful here.”
Skye’s cheeks and ears went red. He looked for a moment like he wanted to argue, but then he reached up and plucked his hearing aids out of his ears. ‘Thank you,’ he signed.
Rami nodded, then tugged him into the bathroom for what he hoped would be the best shower of his life.
“Can I ask about your family?” Skye said when they were back in bed. Rami had set up a tea tray and a couple of towels to protect the sheet from crumbs, and they were finishing off the man’oushe and labneh, and he liked that Skye didn’t like the lemons because they were his favorite, and he hated sharing.
There were only a few Arab grocery stores within a reasonable distance, so Rami tended to hoard what he couldn’t make on his own.
He nibbled on some of the rind as he nodded. ‘Anything,’ he signed, though Skye had put his hearing aids back in.
Skye’s brows furrowed like he was considering his words. He peeled off a strip of bread and dipped it into the yogurt and olive oil. Rami felt something like peace in his chest when he realized Skye hadn’t been lying about liking his food.
Rami had only brought a few friends home over the course of his life, and all of them had acted like he was serving them alien cuisine. One friend—the one his mother had personally kicked out—had taken a single bite of dolma and actually spit it on the table before yelling at Rami for serving him something “so disgusting.”
Rami had been mortified at both his friend and his mother and had refused to go to school for a week. He was convinced that Andrew was going to tell everyone what happened and the whole school was going to hate him.
He was also convinced that his mother was going to refuse to let him bring anyone else to his house after that.
Neither of those things had been true, but the trauma of that fear had stuck with him.
“So, you don’t speak with your parents?—”
“Wait. I speak with my parents,” Rami said with a frown. He didn’t mean to interrupt, but he couldn’t help it. “Did I say I didn’t?”
“You said you were the family disappointment.”
Rami snorted and set his half-uneaten lemon down and reached for his water. “Everyone who didn’t become a doctor or a lawyer is the family disappointment.” His fingers began to tingle, so he gave in to his urge to stim. He tapped each one to his thumb, then wiggled them in the air, watching them dance. “It’s a stereotype, but it’s accurate in my family. In a lot of families. My sister is a psychiatrist. They didn’t love that at first, but she got her MD, so they were happy. And my brother got his doctoral in audiology. My grandfather was a lawyer, but he retired when he moved here, and my mom blamed him for me wanting to be an artist. But she knows it’s just…” He paused and tapped his temple.
Skye reached over the tea tray and brushed a curl away from his ear. “But this is a very good mind.”
Rami bit his lip and shrugged. “I know. And they think so too, even if they still wish I did something different with my life. I love my parents. They’re very good to me, and I think I’m making them really sad by not speaking to them right now.”
“Is it because of your channel?”
Rami looked up, feeling a sense of panic in his chest. “Yes. They can never find out. I can’t…it would…” He hummed in distress.
Skye quickly moved the tray from between them and shifted over so he could curl around Rami. “Hey. They’re not going to find out. You’re careful, right? And it’s not very likely your brother or sister watch FanCore, is it?”
“No,” Rami whispered, then shook his head so Skye would understand. He cleared his throat and felt himself relax. “Sorry. No. They don’t even know I have a tattoo. You’re the only one.”
Skye smiled and touched his jaw. “I like that being our secret.”
Rami nodded and took a few more deep breaths. “My parents wanted us all to be successful because they love us. My mom and dad were afraid me being Autistic would make my life hard. And being gay would make it harder. Being an artist…life would be broke if I wasn’t careful. And they weren’t wrong.”
Skye nodded, brushing a touch up and down his arm. “I have the typical American stereotype family. Roof over my head, food on the table, a car at sixteen, and an eviction notice the moment I graduated high school. If I ever needed money, my parents would send it, but they don’t call to ask me how I am. They don’t invite me over for Christmas. I haven’t seen them in years, and I think it’s just because they’re so busy with their own lives after kids they forgot to remember me.”
Rami felt his whole body jolt. He’d heard about that happening, but he couldn’t imagine that being real. How did someone just throw their kid out at eighteen? Their brains weren’t even fully formed. They were children.
And how did they never call? Not even once ?
“Do they not love you?”
Skye sighed and shrugged. “They do. As best they can, I suppose. We don’t talk, and I like it that way. I have my own family now at the Tower. I have unconditional love I didn’t get growing up.”
“The Sins,” Rami said.
Skye nodded and wrapped his arms tighter around Rami. It was obvious he carried pain from that, even as he tried to say it didn’t matter, so Rami hugged him back. He felt an ache inside that Skye hadn’t known the kind of love he felt growing up. He hadn’t realized saying he was the family disappointment to Skye meant something wholly and completely different.
That letting his parents feel disappointment in his choices hadn’t come at the price of their love and support. That they could see the world entirely differently, but that didn’t matter because at the end of the day, Rami was their son, and he was important.
“You can meet them someday,” Rami said after a long beat.
Skye pulled back. “Your parents?”
“And my brother and sister. And her husband. I also have three nieces,” Rami said.
Skye laughed, but the sound wasn’t mocking. It was surprise, and hope, and maybe a little joy. “Will they like me?”
“I don’t know,” Rami answered honestly. “But they’ll be kind as long as you don’t spit food on the table.”
“Is that…a thing that happened?” Skye asked with a frown.
Rami covered his face and groaned. “Just once. But I trust you. They speak mostly Arabic at home, and they don’t sign, so I’ll interpret if you get lost. But they mean well. It’s a lot sometimes. Loud and bright and…” He trailed off. “And it’s also very good.”
“You miss them,” Skye said softly.
Rami’s eyes cut downward. “When I make enough money, things can go back to normal.”
Skye touched his chin and lifted his gaze. “If you let me help, I can get you there faster. I don’t want to take over, sweetheart, and I don’t want to make money a thing between us. But there are things about you that I want as my own. And if doing that means I can also get you back to the life you left behind, I’d like to.”
“I know,” Rami said. “I’m…I’m not going to say no. Is that weird?”
“Only as weird as me asking,” Skye told him. “But we have this too, don’t we?” He picked Rami’s hand up and kissed his knuckles. “The moments after.”
“Yes,” Rami said, and he realized just how right Skye was. He could have both. There could be two worlds, split down the middle, and Skye could be in both of them. One didn’t have to affect the other. “You might go broke bidding.”
Skye grinned and rolled over, pinning Rami to the pillows. “I don’t care. I’m going to be working my job for a long time. I can replenish whatever I spend on you.”
“Kiss me,” Rami murmured. He wasn’t sure if Skye heard him or read his lips, but it didn’t matter because Skye understood. And he leaned in with a grin and did exactly as Rami asked.