Page 35 of Touch In Excess

For a moment, Rami thought he might taste him, but instead, he wiped his hand on the bedspread before lifting all the way up and setting his knee on the mattress. “I want to come on you.”

Rami nodded, his body still humming with pleasure and his need to see Skye let go almost frantic in his chest. He couldn’t form words, and he couldn’t lift his hands or he would fall, so he mouthed, ‘Yes.’

Skye’s eyes darkened, and he shifted up higher. His hand took his own cock—smaller than Rami’s but thick and pretty, with a metal barbell glinting out of the tip. Rami had missed that before in the chaos of seeing him for the first time, but he had the sudden urge to take it into his mouth.

He couldn’t, of course. Not yet. His mouth was a virgin too, and he wasn’t willing to give up the possibility for an auction. But he could fantasize as Skye grunted his way to completion.

Rami’s fingers burned to touch, but he kept himself in the exact same position he’d fallen, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as Skye brought himself over the edge. He was beautiful all the time, but his expression when he let go was something else. Ethereal, almost. But it also seemed a little…trained.

He wondered if it was on purpose. He wondered if Skye had ever let go—let himself be raw with anyone before.

Skye’s come hit Rami on the stomach just above where his limp cocks were resting, and when Skye was finished, Rami fell all the way back. His fingers drifted through the mess, gathering some on the tips, and he reached for his mouth.

Before he could take a taste, Skye grabbed him by the wrist and squeezed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I can’t let you.”

Rami opened his eyes and blinked at him. ‘Why?’ he signed.

Skye’s gaze dipped down. “We’re as safe as we can be. We’re tested monthly—sometimes more often, depending on if there’s an issue with a client. We always wear protection, but there’s also always a risk, and I’m not allowed to let you taste me like that. Not until I no longer work here and I know for sure I’m keeping you safe.”

Rami felt a pang of disappointment in his chest. “So, will I never be allowed to suck you?”

Skye chuckled softly, and he dropped both hands on either side of Rami’s head, straddling him. “You can suck me. You just can’t taste me. Not yet.”

But not forever. If this worked out, if this became something, there would be a day when he could. Rami supposed he owed Skye as much patience as he was asking for. And he was willing to give a little more than that too.

“Kissing though. I like the kissing. I like tasting your tongue.”

Skye nodded. “I like it too.” And then he showed him exactly how much.

When they pulled into his driveway, Rami was sure Skye would kiss him goodbye at the door and then leave. The date had gone strangely—not the way Rami expected, but partially the way he wanted. So he wasn’t holding out hope for more than a quick goodbye.

But that wasn’t what Skye gave him. Instead, he lingered when Rami put the code in to unlock the house, then leaned in when he opened the door. “Can I come in for a little while? I don’t think I’m ready to let you go yet.”

Rami’s whole being brightened. He wanted that more than anything. He wanted Skye in his space, to leave the impression of him behind when he was gone.

“Yes. I can show you some stuff I’m working on. The house still doesn’t feel like mine. I haven’t really moved into many of the rooms, but I can show you where I stay.”

Skye grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. “I’d really like that.”

Rami led him into the back room his grandfather had converted into his studio and turned on the main lights. They were bright, but they were a soft yellow instead of harsh white, and they illuminated all of Rami’s half-done projects.

Some of them would be abandoned. Some would be finished soon. Some would take years. He never really felt pressure to work on the timeline of other people’s expectations. It was also why he would never really be able to make a living on this alone.

He’d have to figure something else out at some point because he was pretty sure he didn’t want to keep his channel up. But he never wanted his art to feel like work. He was afraid that if he did that, one day, it would start to drain him like everything else.

And sculpting was the last bit of his grandfather he had left that felt alive.

“I love this space,” Skye said as he walked to the back wall. Rami had several pieces that were finished, fired, and waited to be painted and glazed. “Will you sell these?”

“I have a website,” Rami said, hoping his voice carried.

It seemed to because Skye smiled. “You’ll have to show me sometime.” He took a bit longer, his fingers touching rough, dry clay, pressing into a couple of pieces that were still wet. Rami had the sudden urge to preserve his fingerprints, though he didn’t say that aloud. That would be weird.

Wouldn’t it?

Then Skye turned to face him. “What else is yours?”

The library had always been mostly his. His grandfather wasn’t much of a reader, but when he realized Rami was, he’d set it up for him to have a safe space to be alone and unwind. Rami took Skye there next, waving his hand weakly at the stacks of books he’d never put back on the shelf.

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