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He’s been wracking his brain for weeks now trying to find an alternate route, something quicker than taking Lacchu’s portrait all over Delhi and hoping someone somewhere slips up. His mind has churned itself into knots, a storm is brewing outside, and Akthar may or may not be able to swing by for a bit later this afternoon, weather permitting. Which it probably won’t.
Ram glares into the middle distance, idly chewing at the end of his pen as he tries to think through the building headache. He rocks his chair side to side like the slight movement will help dislodge a new idea, half-trying to convince himself to take some of his frustrations out on his gym equipment.
Problem is, he doesn’t want to move. Which is weird in and of itself, considering how antsy he’s feeling. Like he’s running out of time.
Clearly, he needs a different method from his usual. And only one is coming to mind. It has a multitude of iterations, most of which would require him to not only get up but go out as well, but he’s also overheard several instances of it occurring when alone, too.
He’s not sure how to instigate it, though.
Thunder rumbles overhead, and Ram groans along with it, slouching further into his seat and letting his head flop back in frustration. His fingertips brush across the inside of his knee and –
Inspiration sparks. A memory – but not really – of how he and Akthar are almost constantly touching when they’re together. Ram can’t count the number of times one has patted the other’s shoulder or poked a side or caught an elbow for balance. Or cupped a knee in reassurance.
He lets his hand drift down from the armrest, fingers rubbing gently up along the lowest part of his inner thigh. A breathlessness catches in his lungs. He stares at it in detached fascination, as if it’s someone else’s hand touching him like this, though he can feel the fabric of his trousers just fine under his fingertips.
Like a dare has been issued, the fingers’ palm shifts to lie across his knee in challenge. Ram shivers in response, though he cannot say why. The fingers continue their slow stroking, occasionally changing speed or pressure or direction with no input from him. At some arbitrary point Ram can’t define, they nudge a little further upward, sometimes reaching deep towards the meat at the back, sometimes barely hovering along the top, his elbow bending as necessary to accommodate their reach.
Thunder rumbles again just after they’ve passed the halfway point, and Ram absently hums along with it, thinking of how it sounds like the engine of Akthar’s motorcycle. He swallows and shivers, almost feeling the machine’s vibrations going through him. His head flops back, eyes threatening to roll closed as the sensation intensifies. A heavy heat pools low in his belly, and he hisses when the hand moves again. He jolts, gasping, as the knuckles brush against something incredibly sensitive, and blinks at how his pants have tented strangely over his crotch. The fingers continue to rub, the thumb rising to tease along the crease at his hip. His head finds its way into his other hand, still under his control, and he half-feels/half-watches as his hips start developing a mind of their own, rolling like ocean waves, enticing the hand to edge closer, closer, a little closer. A pressure builds, almost like he needs to take a piss, but something completely –
A strangled noise escapes him as the hand suddenly jumps to cup around the pressure. More sounds try to escape, his eyes squeezing closed as his hips jerk and press and try … try . . .
Something pinches, just painful enough to distract from the pull. Ram gasps, vision clearing slowly as whatever-that-was recedes. He blinks down at his crotch, at the hand still cupped protectively around his hard cock, as his other hand’s grip eases on its armrest.
Well. First step complete, I suppose. Now what?
The thumb moves, eliciting another whimper –
“What’s got you thinking so hard, Bhaiyya?”
Ram jumps like a startled cat, somehow jerking his lower half snugly under his desk without removing the traitorous hand from its perch in his panic. “Oh, hey, Akthar! I thought you were coming by later today. Everything okay at the shop?” His voice is rushed and pitched way too high. Ram tries to smile anyway, hoping Akthar either won’t notice anything (unlikely – he may be innocent, but he’s not stupid) or polite enough not to . . . say anything too embarrassing about it.
Akthar’s head cocks at him, then a knowing crosses his features. Ram’s stomach drops as his cock twitches. “Are you up to something you shouldn’t be, Bhaiyya?”
A squeak escapes. Ram jerks his chin up and tries to ignore it. “You’re in my apartment, Akthar. What shouldn’t I be doing in my private space?”
Akthar smirks. “True enough,” he concedes, and steps back toward the door.
Ram sighs and rubs his free hand over his face, hating himself a little –
The door lock clicks shut, a grinning Akthar pressed against it. “Now we won’t be interrupted.”
Ram doesn’t know how to quantify the sound that comes out of his mouth. It smacks uselessly for a moment before he can clarify. “We?”
“We.” Akthar moves from the door to where Ram’s wedged against the desk in about three strides. He pulls it out just enough for it to turn, then leans on the armrests to loom over Ram. “Leaving you alone in this state is a crime I’m not willing to commit.”
“… It isn’t?”
“No. Not at all.” Akthar presses a kiss to Ram’s forehead and nuzzles his way down, slowly coming to kneel between Ram’s spread knees. Twin spots of heat bloom where Akthar’s hands wrap around Ram’s calves a moment later. “What would you like, na Rama?”
“Like?” Ram would be embarrassed about all the repetition, but his lungs can’t get enough air for his brain to think. “I-I don’t know.”
Akthar hums, teeth flashing out to nibble Ram’s bare collarbone. “Too many options, or too shy to say?” He licks away the sting and snuffles against the loose fabric of Ram’s shirt, then nudges further down to mouth the flesh over Ram’s pounding heart. “What do you like?”
“I don’t know,” Ram whines, arching into the heat. “I’ve never . . .” he doesn’t know what to call it – it can’t all be sex, right? There’s some kind of . . . penetration, with that.
Akthar’s kisses slow to a stop, but Ram’s free hand catches in his hair before his head pulls away. Akthar compromises by pressing his cheek to Ram’s chest and rubbing like a cat. “Never . . . with a man?”
“Never, p-period,” Ram stutters, shaking as another rub strays closer to his nipple. “I don’t kn- –” His voice breaks, the hand over his cock spasming as Akthar goes completely still.
And grins like a shark tasting blood in the water. “Oohh, you shouldn’t have told me that, Bangaram,” he says, his hands jerking Ram even lower in his seat. “Now I may never let you go.”
That’s a bad thing? He’s smothered under an Akthar-sized heated blanket before the question can reach his mouth. Akthar hums like he hears the question anyway, teeth and tongue teasing at Ram’s ear as their beards catch and tangle before he shifts, pulling Ram’s grip from his hair to lick over the fingers as he watches with heavy eyes.
“Anything you don’t like,” Akthar says, teeth scraping and nibbling into Ram’s palm, “anything feels odd or the slightest bit uncomfortable, you tell me. Understand?” His tongue cups around Ram’s thumb before it disappears in his mouth.
Another strange noise slips from Ram’s mouth at the wet, suckling heat that greets him. Akthar’s smile lights up his eyes, a pride bordering on smugness when Ram’s hips jump and his other hand presses down to compensate.
The moment passes, its intensity fading to a dull roar. Akthar slows, and Ram nods frantically when he remembers he’d been asked a question. Akthar huffs a laugh around his thumb, but still pulls away to nibble Ram’s fingertips. “Good boy,” he murmurs with a final kiss. Then he urges it towards Ram’s belt with a, “I think it’s time we free the beast, yes?”
“What about you?” Ram counters, unmoving.
Akthar settles on his shins and leans his head against Ram’s thigh – the over-sensitized one, re-igniting the nerves with his weight and heated breath. “What about me?”
“You should get something out of it, too. What can I do?”
Akthar chuckles, then sighs, “So selfless,” almost like a complaint. After a few seconds’ thought, the hand still wrapped around Ram’s calf slides down and gently pulls his heel from the chair leg it’s propped on, skims it over Akthar’s thigh and under his kurta . . . to press the arch to a matching hard bulge between his legs. They both quake, a deep groan rolling out of Akthar’s chest as Ram’s chilly toes curl against the soft-warm fuzz of his belly. “L-Let’s see what you can do with that. Now,” his heavy-eyed gaze drops, his voice along with it, as he stares at Ram’s crotch. “Gimme.”
Something between a hiss and a whine escapes Ram, his hips arching hard as his hands scramble to comply. Every slight brush against his cock makes him writhe and gasp, practically dancing in his seat to either press for more or escape the teasing. He shoves the most offending cloth away – then hesitates when his belt buckle nearly smacks Akthar in the face. “Shit. I’m sorry –”
His wrists are pinned to his thighs. “For what? You’re perfect,” Akthar counters. Ram’s knee flexes, rubbing his foot along Akthar’s cock in counterpoint; Akthar laughs. “I will brook no arguments.” Ram tries to wiggle back up into his seat a little, regaining maybe an inch before Akthar’s hold stalls him out. “Let me take care of you, Sweetling.”
Ram … hesitates. Then slowly lets himself melt again. Akthar rumbles approval and kisses the inside of Ram’s knee – right where all this started. “What were you thinking about?” he asks.
A different heat spikes in Ram’s cheeks, and he has to look away for a moment. “N-Nothing specific, really.” He chews his lip, then confesses, “You kept coming to mind.”
Akthar hums, nudges his way up Ram’s thigh, kisses it when he settles again. “What about me.”
How you’re always touching me. How I crave it. Ram’s hands flex. “About your motorcycle, actually,” he says instead.
“It does have a lovely purr,” Akthar agrees. He inches a little higher with a flash of teeth and rubs his cheek along the inseam. “I ought to put you in the driver’s seat sometime. Have you lean against the handlebars while I gun the engine. Watch you hump and beg and squirm your way to release. Tease you with it, see what kind of noises I can drag out of you.” The rubbing inches higher, up and around until Akthar kisses the top of his leg. “Would you like that, Rama?”
“M … Maybe?” Ram says between gasps. “If you’re behind me . . .” He shudders, head falling back as his hips arch into another roll.
“Ohh, I like how you think.” Akthar’s breath ghosts over Ram’s hand; his tongue licks at Ram’s pinkie. “Want me to pin you down, Rama?” Teeth nip at the base of Ram’s middle finger. “Make you choose between your cock against my engine . . .” Akthar’s lips wrap around his index, teasing him with the heat inside and darting away before Akthar growls, “Or your ass against my cock.”
Ram sees white . . . but somehow, nothing happens. He’s shaking and panting like the world’s run out of air, his eyes burning with tears that won’t fall. He settles back with a thump, a scream strangling itself to death in his throat. A constricting pressure and frantic movement against a lower extremity pulls at his attention, but it slows as Ram blinks down at Akthar rutting against his foot.
“Beautiful. So beautiful, my Rama. I knew you would be.”
Ram shakes his head. He may be inexperienced, but he’s confident this tense ache isn’t how it’s supposed to end. “I’m broken. Can’t even –”
A mouth slams against his; he might even taste a little blood when they separate. “Don’t ever speak of my Rama that way again,” Akthar commands.
Ram can only blink. His head sways in confused acknowledgement as his tongue pokes at his sensitive lip –
– then shouts when heat suddenly swallows his cock whole. His hands dive into curls, desperately grasping at a scalp that continues to bob over him. His hips jump – only to be pinned against the seat, a warning growl vibrating against him making his eyes roll in their sockets. “Please, please, please,” he hears someone beg in time with his gasps. “Please, more, please.” The world heaves. For a breathless moment he flies. Then he’s laid at the foot of his bed, the curtains fluttering at the impact.
It's not Akthar looking at him when he scrambles further up the mattress, their hands gently clawing Ram’s clothes from his lower half before grabbing an ankle and yanking him down again. A happy squeal at the manhandling becomes a surprised, full-throated groan as the man’s mouth descends on him again. His feet rise to gain purchase against the mattress – only for his legs to get hooked over the man’s shoulders, minimizing his ability to thrust again. Ram’s hands bury themselves back in the man’s hair, but he quickly finds he can’t do anything to shift the rhythm the man’s set.
Not that he wants to, necessarily. He just wants more. How, or of what, he can’t name. Eventually, he hooks an arm behind him and starts pulling his way back up the bed again with a panting, “C’mon, please, c’mon,” to encourage the man to move with him.
The man follows him with a suspicious eye. Once he’s fully settled on the mattress instead of leaning awkwardly over it, Ram lays back with a sigh. The man snorts and eyerolls fondly at him, then does something that makes Ram’s toes curl as he hisses at a new pleasure.
A hand departs from Ram’s hip a moment later, drifting up under his shirt to pinch a nipple. Ram arches into the pain with a soft grunt – then is confused when it lets go, climbing higher to reach for his mouth. A couple fingers tap questioningly at his lips, which part to let them in –
Oh. The suction on his cock increases. He licks at the fingers, enticing them deeper, and Akthar’s tongue does the same. Teach me what you like seems to be the message.
Ram takes hold of the hand’s wrist and presses the fingers deeper, until they’re fluttering at the edge of his gag reflex. His teeth scrape gently at their base, testing – then jolts when Akthar’s teeth do the same, his tongue gently swiping away the sting.
Okay. Not that, then. He increases his suction and cups his tongue around the fingers, shuddering as Akthar’s tongue mimics him. Ram’s hips roll, creating a lovely sensation … but it’s not quite right. He grunts again, unhappy.
Akthar’s fingers rock gently against his tongue, encouraging, and Ram’s hips roll again in response. But it’s not enough. He pulls the fingers out enough to trade the index for the ring, and –
Ohh. Better. Something about the fresh taste and being bracketed makes him shudder. Like he wants to be forced to take what he’s given.
Akthar hums, thoughtful. Then Ram’s flipped over, his head shoved sideways into the sheets as his legs are folded under him, a pressure rubbing against his backside as Akthar surrounds him, panting against his ear. “Not in the mood for gentle today, are we.”
Ram groans, his brain edging toward mush again. All three fingers shove back into his mouth, and he sucks on them eagerly, already craving something more. The bed creaks and starts to rock under Akthar’s thrusts and Ram presses back . . . but it’s not enough. What is wrong with me? He jolts at a sudden sting against one leg, the sound of a slap ringing in the air.
“You’re thinking too much,” Akthar growls, biting his ear. Ram gasps at the pain, the fingers disappearing from his mouth. “Analyzing and judging every breath when you just need to feel.” The pressure against his ass shifts away for a narrower heat to press against him. Ram stills. Quakes.
Yes.
“Do you not trust me, Rama? Do you think I won’t take care of you?” The center pushes, teasing its way into Ram’s hole as the other parts rub along the edges. Akthar’s voice drops again. “Give you what you need?” The center shoves all the way in and Ram yells. Rocks and rides on it for a few delicious, delirious seconds . . . then slows to a stop when he realizes it’s not moving.
“Do you know what I need?” he pants – not as a challenge, but because he doesn’t know –
Akthar growls. Then shoves Ram down again, pinning him between his shoulder blades as one finger becomes two. Ram groans and hitches his hips higher for better access, greedy for more. Akthar chuckles, his warm breath slipping away from Ram’s neck as lips trail downward, skimming along Ram’s skin. A deep bite in Ram’s asscheek he hopes will leave a mark –
Thatcan’tbesanitary zings through his mind before it blanks out on the warm-wet tongue pushing between the fingers propping his hole open. His voice garbles. Then his hips jostle, unable to decide if they want away or more, hands curling in the sheets as noises clamor to escape his throat. A hand at his waist urges him to stillness, but he’s too confused to comply. So the fingers move from their position to lock him down instead, pressing the globes of his ass together so they’re forced to rub against Akthar’s beard while he licks and nibbles and eats at Ram’s hole.
Something guttural rolls out of Ram, unable to process the dual sensations. His cock aches, begging for some kind of contact, but he doesn’t dare move. He shakes and sobs, vision blurring –
– and the tongue disappears, a larger, firmer heat sliding into its place as Akthar once again breathes against his neck. “There. Is that better?”
Perfect. Ram sighs and swallows dry, unable to speak. Akthar’s hands slowly stroke up, along Ram’s sides, then over his shoulders and arms, to intertwine their fingers. Together they release the sheets and lift somewhere beyond Ram’s head, the something in Ram’s ass shifting beautifully as Akthar braces over him. He shivers.
“Ready?”
A sound slips out. Thankfully, Akthar understands its meaning. He rocks slowly at first, with barely any sign of movement. Ram blindly presses his mouth to a hand in a sloppy kiss. More, he wants to say. Movement increases along with speed, edging just short of something that soon shoots sparks in Ram’s vision. He hisses, arching for it, only for it to slip further away.
It earns another smack to his leg, then a corrective jerk on his hip. “Stop it,” Akthar pants against his ear. “This is mine now.”
Ram melts – and the next stroke smacks right into that spot and makes him howl. “There! – there please – more yes there – fuck yes please more” He writhes in his cage, desperate yet unwilling to move for what he wants as strokes speed to pounding. Teeth bite into his neck, rumbling over a growl as fingers pinch a nipple hard. “Yes more please” The bed thumps against the wall and he needs to be louder “Please yes more” A hand wraps around his cock and he
S C R E A M S
Pressure releases But there’s still more to come He can feel it, hovering in the wings. A break in the rhythm as parts shift around, and just as he’s about to weep for the loss, his legs spread to accommodate another pair as he’s lurched upward into someone’s lap and the rhythm returns. “Yes, more – more!” he hears himself demand “Hurts so good – gimme more” Hips slam against him, hand pumping his cock for more as release continues to leak out. He groans and arches into it, raising his arms so his fingers can dig scratches into the other’s back “Gimme – gimme” he pants, leaning back until his head lands on a shoulder. A playful kiss lands on his nose, a hand pressing a question against his throat His eyes roll closed at the thought, its squeeze barely hindering his next scream as freedom ploughs through him
“Yes yes yes” he whimpers through his tears, toes curling with need as the rhythm continues unabated. “Your turn – gimme – make me yours!”
“MINE,” the other agrees with a roar, liquid heat flooding into him as he’s pressed face-first back into the sheets. He clutches at them, sensitivity edging into Too Much as the thrusts slow ... slow . . . slow
s l o w to a stop.
They fall together to one side on the bed, somehow still connected as they shake and fight to catch their breath. Akthar’s hand smooths over Ram’s belly under his shirt and tugs, taking back the slight distance their movement caused. Ram shivers and twists, trying to capture Akthar’s mouth for a kiss, but the angle proves too awkward to give him the depth he wants. Akthar hooks his chin over Ram’s shoulder instead, and Ram sighs his contentment – then pouts when Akthar’s cock slips out of him.
“That so much as twitches, I want it back,” he demands, making Akthar laugh.
“Sir, yes Sir.” Akthar nuzzles against his neck. “Have I created a monster?”
“Your own fault,” Ram says, thunder rumbling as rain pours outside. He snuggles back – only to encounter more cloth than skin. “You’re still dressed?”
“You didn’t give me much time to undress.”
“Are you going somewhere now?”
“Are you asking me to stay?”
Ram huffs and flops himself over to face his … lover, tangling their legs together to emphasize his point. “Akthar,” he says, in as formal a voice as he can. “Please consider staying the night with me.”
Akthar’s smirk blooms into a smile. “I’d love to,” he says, then rolls on top of Ram. “I still need to taste every. last. inch of you, after all.” He tugs at the collar of Ram’s shirt. “And the sooner you get rid of this, the better.”
“Kinda hard to do that with you on top of me.”
“Want me off?”
Ram pulls him closer – “Never.” – and takes the kiss he’s been craving.
Akthar stretches and wiggles into place, Ram’s legs naturally wrapping to lock around his hips. He hums against Ram’s mouth. “Too bad it’s time to wake up now.” Ram grunts a rejection, clinging tighter, but it’s no use. Bheem rises, pulling away with a soft, sad smile. “Time to wake up, Rama.”
“No.”
Bheem presses his forehead to Ram’s. “Rama. Wake. Up.”
– and Ram blinks against the sudden darkness surrounding him. Scents of woodsmoke and a meal long past linger in the air as someone snuffles and coughs in the distance. Ram wipes a hand over his face, remembering where he is. Gods, how embarrassing.
He can’t regret a second of it, though.