‘You could be the star in a porn movie’ is probably not an appropriate way of greeting.
Instead I say: “Hi. I’m Jasim.” My voice only slightly higher than usual. “How can I help you?”
Ivana who guides the tours pipes up before the gorgeous blond can answer. “He cannot walk and obviously there is no wheelchair access to the boat. Could you carry him?”
My gaze meets the blond’s and I see the annoyance at having been spoken over flicker over his handsome face, shortly before it is washed away by spasms that make his head bump against the headrest of the power wheelchair.
“Sure,” I say, trying to wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans without being obvious. Gosh, this guy is making me feel all hot already now, I do not want to think of what might happen next. “Which boat?”
Ivana points us to the second on the right. It is one of the small ones, with a detachable ramp leading onto the deck.
The hot guy’s left hand twitches and his fingers curl tight around the joystick on the left side of the armrest as he brings the power wheelchair into motion. The water is calm and the boats are barely moving up and down on the quay. When the chair stops close to the entrance to the ramp leading over the edge I can see why they have called me. The ramp is too narrow for the wheelchair.
Ivana is hovering, glaring at me with distrust. She does not like me although I wonder why. I am only here a few hours a week, for the night tours that require extra security in case of drunken people misbehaving. We have rarely spoken up to now and still she regards me with suspicion every time our ways cross, as if I am going to grow horns or reveal a bomb under my jacket. I cannot help but think she would be delighted if either one actually happened, in a told-you-so kind of way.
“Are you sure you can do it?” She hisses into my ear, loud enough though that I am convinced the blond can hear it, too. “I do not want to get into trouble with insurance.”
“I’ve got it, really. You can get the boat ready.” I know she has to make a few tests before starting.
Ivana leaves with a last glance back, her heels clacking on the metallic ramp. She is never clothed like a tour guide steering a boat, more like she is prepared to run off to a dinner date around the corner.
The other passengers have already boarded. They are not many, maybe a hand full, and they are all sitting at the front of the top deck, not facing us, cameras ready around their necks. I am kind of relieved we will not have an audience and I guess the blond might be too. It cannot be a very comfortable situation being hauled on board like a piece of luggage, but being goggled at during the process might be even worse.
I turn to him. “Sorry about her,” I feel the need to say and spread my arms a little.
The man shrugs some and grimaces. His legs move, feet hovering a bit above the footrest.
“Okay… I need you to tell me how to best carry you.” I say, facing him. I wonder if he can talk or what way of communication he uses.
“I… can… walk… you know?” the blond growls, his back arching sideways and his left hand groping the air as he speaks. His voice is slightly pressed and the words come slow, entire syllables swallowed.
“Of course, sorry,” I say. No surprise there. Ivana probably did not even ask, possibly assumed based on the bulky wheelchair, and even if he had told her, she would not have listened. At least, she ignores me most of the time that I speak to her. “Uh… what can I do then instead?”
His arm swings back and forth and it takes me a few seconds to understand that he begs me to step closer.
“The straps?” I ask, pointing to the belt fixing him in the wheelchair around the waist.
He nods, slightly irritated by my slowness and somewhat awkward with his face turned away from me at the same time, the thick cords of muscles in his neck visible under the gray woolen pullover. In profile his face is even more stunning, the jawline pronounced, the swing of his nose delicate and the fair skin bright even in the low lighting.
I bent down and my fingers move along the belt, trying to figure out the mechanism. It does not take long but during the time I am close to him I can feel the warmth from his body on my cheeks and I am very aware of how close my hands are to his private areas. Then the clasp snaps open and I stand up straight again quickly, my face glowing.
“Stay...” he says, and the commanding tone in his voice makes me oblige almost immediately.
He scoots forward in the seat, arms flailing and body shaking. I offer him my arm and he reaches out with his left hand. After a few fruitless trials his fingers finally close tightly around my wrist, twitching noticeably. He grabs the low railing within his closest reach with his right hand and pulls himself up slowly. He is tall, and only because I am not small myself we are about the same height. His legs quiver as if unsure if they want to support him or not.
“All good?” I ask carefully.
He groans something that I do not understand but blinks impatiently at me, so I make a step forward and onto the ramp, slowly, not to throw him off balance. He follows, legs jerky and uncoordinated, while he is clinging to my arm and the metal railing on the other side, his upper body still slightly tilting to the right.
We do not fit side by side on the ramp, and I step in front of him, offering my left arm as well because I assume that the railing is too low for him to be comfortable and slippery with spray. He takes my hand after some hesitation, fully relying on me now. I walk backwards over the ramp, watching out for every movement of his, ready to counteract his sudden and misjudged steps. His gait is a jumble, barely to be anticipated and his knees knock together from time to time. Still, we make it up the ramp half the way in an unsteady rhythm of planting one foot in front of the other and his weight light on me. Sometimes several adjustments are required until a foot is placed stable but other than that we face no problems.
Then his turned-in left foot gets stuck behind his right and he lets out a frustrated grunt in the back of his throat as it will not budge anymore.
“Back a bit?” I offer, about to go into the other direction again.
His beautiful eyes widen alarmed and he howls shortly. I freeze, staring at him.
The blond shakes his head erratically and frees his right hand, grabbing the railing again. He turns his body, obviously trying to shake the recalcitrant foot free, and the metal ramp wobbles precariously under our feet.
“Hey, hey!” I yell. “Stop that. Let me help, okay?”
He goes still and watches me, barely moving for once, the blond eyelashes reflecting the light from the lamps on the boat behind me, then jerks his head into a nod.
I plant his other hand on the railing as well and bent down to his feet. With my hands on his left knee and foot, I slowly manipulate the joint to move the leg past his right. I cannot help but notice the brace around his calf, a hard and smoothly curved surface below the soft fabric of his pants.
He studies me for a second, blinking, then cracks a hint of a lopsided smile that reveals a dimple in the corner of his mouth, and reaches for my hands again, one after the other. I cannot help but sigh relieved and smile back at him.
We take the remaining steps toward the sill leading onto the boat. I sense him hesitating and wordlessly slip under his left arm, since there is more space now than on the ramp.
“Ready?” I ask and we take that last hurdle with him leaning on me heavily, and several trials in which his feet ram into the obstacle instead of clearing it before we are actually over and past it. He stumbles against me, left foot failing to land flat on the ground, knee buckling.
“Watch out,” I yelp, and move my right knee behind his left, bumping his leg up again. He seems to grow tired quickly.
I decide to let him rest like this for a few seconds, my left arm around his chest, right shoulder keeping most of his weight while he leans into me. I feel the heat in the point where our bodies are joined at the hips and suddenly I become aware of a certain tightness in my pants. I realize that I am growing a boner, my cock trapped between me and his shivering body.
“Sorry,” I mumble and try to move away, only having him slump more and the friction as fabric slides over my cock making me hiss.
He makes a noise that sounds like a soft laugh and goes straight to my cock.
“Really, really sorry,” I apologize again, horribly flustered, and urge us forward, my left hand fixing his hand on my shoulder, my right propping him up.
“Where to?” I ask, although I am already steering toward the lone bench facing the ramp. It is a warm night and no one is sitting on the seats inside on the lower deck, all passengers indeed on the top deck. I strongly suspect that we will not manage to make it up the steep staircase to the top and although the bench kind of faces the wrong direction, it is a good alternative to sitting inside, plus it is the closest option for sitting anywhere. Since the weight on my shoulder gets heavier with every second and the steps at my side even more careless and haphazard, I am determined at least to find us a place to rest.
We reach the bench in what seems to be the last second before the blond’s legs finally quit service. His body is quivering and his chest is heaving as I turn and slowly let us both down into the seat.
I feel out of breath as well. “Ya allah…” I groan lowly.
He coughs a laugh, the sound wheezing from his throat. “… It's… Daniel... for you,” he says, a wolfish grin spreading on his face and his legs tremble as he tries to sit up straighter.
I chuckle hoarsely and rub one hand over my forehead in an attempt to pull myself together. My pants still feel tight, but it gets bearable now that my front is not pressed against Daniel anymore. “I’m… I’m Jasim.”
“You said that… already,” Daniel says, watching me, amusement in the corners of his eyes.
I shake my head lightly, reliving the last minutes. “When you said you could walk… I imagined something else…”
Daniel frowns slightly. His arm is still slung over my shoulder and he pulls me closer with it. “If I’m not mistaken… you enjoyed it… immensely.”
My cheeks heat up but he is smiling, watching me with unveiled interest.
I swallow and wiggle out from under his arm to move a bit to the side, carefully keeping him propped up with my hands. “Are you okay sitting here on your own?”
Daniel moves one hand to the seat of the bench, bracing himself. “Where’re… you going… Jasim?” His lips are slow around my name and his head jerks sideways as he speaks. Still, what could have been an innocent question sounds more like an inquiry.
“Uh I… I will bring your wheelchair…” I start saying but even as I speak it occurs to me that it might be impossible for me to get the power wheelchair on board. Strollers, yes. Walkers, yes. But a wheelchair this size and probably quiet heavy? There is no way I can just throw it over the rail.
“Uh…” I scratch the back of my head. “Is it okay if I lock it in the guard’s house instead?” I ask Daniel.
He grunts a yes.
“Okay… then… uh…” I blink. I am terrible at this. I should have gotten the hang of dating by now but I have not. Turns out, I am completely useless at it, I do not even find the courage to ask for Daniel’s number. “Enjoy your trip?”
I am already about to get up and turn toward the ramp when trembling fingers lock around my underarm.
“Don't you want to…” Daniel starts saying. When I turn and look at him he is staring directly at me, his eyes intense. “...stay?” His voice is deep, and there is an edge to it like a warning.
I swallow, trying not to let on that my dick just twitched happily in my pants. “I’m sorry… I-I…” I stop and force myself to breathe. “I have to get back to my job.” I am the only guard and my sole purpose is to prevent certain passengers from boarding in the first place. I usually do not ride the boats.
I am not sure how to read Daniel’s expression, mostly since his face is twitching with spasms again, his hand on my arm squeezing and then falling away suddenly, his back slumping against the backrest of the bench.
I take the opportunity to step back. “I'll be there for you when you return, okay?” I cannot fight the feeling of defeat that overwhelms me at the words. I am a coward.
First I cannot tell if Daniel has heard me but then I realize he shrugged.
Only in that moment the bow wave of a boat that has just arrived hits ours and the floor under my feet lurches, catapulting me forward and practically into Daniel's lap.
His eyes are a beautiful dark green up close, sparkling with mischief. “Changed... your mind?” As he starts grinning he reveals a row of white, even teeth.
“Uh…” I try to get my feet under me, his legs jumping below me.
Daniel’s right hand finds my arm, squeezing as he holds onto it to save me from falling, his left arm shaking with keeping us both up. His upper body is tilting to the side in an alarming rate, thrown out of equilibrium by the waves that continue rocking the boats on the quay and the mortified guy in his lap, fidgeting to escape.
I manage to find my bearings and prevent us from slipping off the bench together. Daniel’s upper body is sagging and heavy in my arms as I prop him up, my heart racing.
“Sorry, sorry...” I say again, but only receive an amused grunt from his side.
I sit next to him on the bench again, my knees weak, and wait for my pulse to slow down to normal, Daniel leaning into me. His shoulder moves against me and it occurs to me that out of the harbor the waves might be more intense.
“Did you come here alone?” I ask carefully. I do not know if public transport is accessible for him or not.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah, but... Macy hates… boats,” he says. “Went… shopping.”
“Oh…” Shit! I feel stupid now, even more than before, thinking about his girlfriend – or wife – waiting for him somewhere. Shit, shit…
“My… sister,” he says, his left leg kicking forward a bit, sliding against mine. He laughs. “You should have seen… your face…”
I blush a bit and turn my head away slightly.
He grins as he watches me from the side, a certain hunger in his eyes that makes a warm shiver run down my spine. After a few seconds he nods toward the quay and sighs. “Just tell… your boss… or whoever… you need to stay… with me. For… safety reasons… They’ll… understand.”
I stare at him and swallow. He is right, I can use his condition as a perfect excuse. Although I am sure that if I positioned him in a corner of the benches inside he would be just fine. The river is not the open sea, in the end.
A part of me yearns to stay with him, but the other is undecided. And a tiny voice inside me screams ‘no’ at the thought alone. But then I look into Daniel’s reassuring eyes and I feel a strange calm overcoming me.
Moving carefully I take my phone out, at the same time providing extra stability to Daniel next to me and following the urge to feel his warm body as close to mine as possible. Ivana has started the motor of the boat and the vibrations run through everything, shaking even me up.
“I’m glad you… reconsidered,” Daniel says into my ear as I wait for someone to pick up, sending goosebumps down my arm. His left hand brushes my thigh, if intentionally or not I cannot say.
I am probably going to die before we even leave the harbor.
When I explain the situation, Pete, the manager, grudgingly allows me to stay on board, provided I can assure the normal process of the tour and promises to send someone over to get the wheelchair.
“I hope I didn’t… get you in trouble… Jasim?” Daniel says as soon as I have hung up, a glint in his eyes.
I shake my head, the heat rising to my cheeks again. “No, no… it’s… no…” I force myself not to look at his lips, guiding my eyes instead to the lone wheelchair on the quay.
We watch one of the girls from the ticket counter come over and analyze the wheelchair. She is soon joined by one of the quay workers whose job it is to remove the detachable ramp and the ropes keeping the boat close to the quay. They are bent over the chair, scratching their heads and looking lost.
“Is there a magic on-switch?” I ask, voice a bit hoarse.
Daniel next to me snickers. “Joy… stick… locked… probably.” His head jerks to the side repeatedly as he speaks.
We continue watching the two trying to work out the steering mechanism of Daniel’s wheelchair. All the while, I feel every movement of Daniel against me. Every tensing of his muscles, every twitch of his limbs gets transported to my body, and I realize he is never really completely still. His arms constantly move, flexing and straightening, the fingers slowly forming to fists and opening again. His legs move against each other, occasionally one kicks out or trembles in its position and his head wiggles imperceptibly, even when I think he is actually focusing on something. Me, for example.
Then the girl from the tickets finally walks off, steering the chair in a not very straight line while bent over the controls. The quay worker detaches the ramp, loosens the ropes and throws them over the railing. He raises a hand to wave at me as our boat slowly backs away from the quay.
Ivana’s voice comes over the speakers, greeting the guests and starting to narrate the facts of the tour and the city while we advance the core of it.
“Is this your first tour?” I ask Daniel.
Daniel shakes his head. “It’s been… a few… years,” he says. “Yours?”
“Hmmm,” I admit.
Daniel scoffs. “You serious?”
I shrug. “My job is on land.” I need the money to pay for tuition and cannot afford to spend it on costly tourist attractions instead.
The first interesting buildings come into view, apparently, because Ivana starts talking about architecture and city planning, but it takes a bit of time until we can see what she is talking about since we are looking in the other direction.
“I like… the city at night,” Daniel murmurs, head tilted back to look up, his fingers gripping the edge of the bench tight to keep balance. “Everything is… larger.”
I do not know how a city like this needs to be even larger than it is already, but I cannot deny that the myriad of blinking windows in the near endless facades rocking high into the sky to our left and right is impressive.
We round a bent in the river and the shadow of one of the many bridges slips over us. The moment we sit in the dark, a quivering hand palms my knee and I gasp.
“Is that… okay?” A husky voice breathes into my ear.
I need a few seconds to swallow down the lump in my throat. “Y-yes…” I whisper but as the boat moves on and the thousand bright lights of the city at night return to shine on us, I stiffen.
“Are you… shy, perhaps?” Daniel asks with a teasing undertone but there is concern in his eyes.
“I…” I breathe out. “I’m not good with… the public.”
I know that it is unlikely anyone will see us. There is no one on our deck, all attention is usually to the front and even if one of the passengers decides to walk to the back of the upper deck, we are sitting under the overhanging roof of it, concealed from views from above. Ivana is busy steering the boat from the cabin at the front and even the people on the promenades or passing boats, should they pay any attention to the other boats on the river, will only see shadows. Still, the conflicting emotions about my own sexuality are so deeply ingrained within me, years of hiding from myself and others hard to unlearn, it seems impossible to just shrug it off, especially in situations like these. I feel like a spotlight could get turned on us any second.
“I’m sorry…” I start.
“Shh…” Daniel says, his fingers traveling up my thigh, pressing lightly through the fabric. His right arm is moving rapidly through the air, as if to compensate for the precision of the other. “There’s… nothing wrong… with you.”
My lips get dry and my breathing gets faster and flatter the closer Daniel’s hand gets to the bulge in my pants that has been growing again during the last minutes, my cock pressing uncomfortably against the zipper. My eyes are no longer on Daniel, nervously roaming through the dark behind us instead, watching out for anyone who might be seeing us.
“I know,” I whisper, my voice wobbly. “I know! I do and still I can’t—“
Daniel retracts his hand, his body shivering violently a few times. “I… understand,” he finally says. “People don't…” The pause seems to be intended this time. He inhales, locking eyes with me. “People don’t… usually see me… as… a sexual being… Some don’t… think I… should have… needs.”
Daniel’s right hand suddenly fists into my shirt, then moves upward over my chest, fingers twitching. I bite on my lips as an erect nipple is grazed lightly, a jolt of electric current running through my body. Daniel’s hand stops to hover near the side of my face, his brows pinched in concentration, until I follow the urge and cup his hand with mine. It is large and cool as it comes to rest against my cheek, fingers moving slightly over the stubble.
“They always told me… what I can’t… or shouldn’t… do,” Daniel whispers. “But I learned… not to listen… I don’t… listen… anymore…”
He leans forward, his other hand bracing him on the back of the bench. “To hell… with them.”
Our lips meet, a brief, sweet moment. His are impossible soft, and I close my eyes, trying to forget the surroundings, and let myself get lost in the sensation of his lips on mine and that of his hand on the side of my face, warm and sheltering. It is good. It is more than that. A hoarse moan escapes me.
Daniel breaks the kiss, smiling contentedly. “Yeah... I hope that… just-”
But then Daniel’s head jerks to the side again, his jaw clamps shut and his upper body slumps a bit against mine. I notice the twitching of the muscles through my own shirt and as I look into those green eyes, hefted on me while the spasms run their course, I feel a sudden rush of boldness in my veins. I slip one hand behind his neck, pulling him in gently and fit our lips together again, ignoring the weak sounds of protest from Daniel.
It is a heated kiss, sloppy with Daniel still jerking mildly, but I follow every movement and my probing tongue finally makes its way between his lips, tasting his mouth, sucking on his tongue. He shudders below my gentle touch around his temples and arches up into my hand as it travels over the plates of hard bones and straining muscles, breath hot in my mouth.
“No…” I mumble into the nape of his neck when I break off for a moment. “Not shy. Not very.”
I place small kisses along his perfect and smooth jawline, drawing in the scent from him. I nip at a tender spot right below Daniel’s ear and he groans, the vibrations resonating within me. His green eyes follow my movements, a grin in the corner of his mouth, even if his head still jerks away a few times. His legs are folded over each other at the ankles and I let one hand trail upward from his knee, over twitching muscles. A guttural “Ah!” escapes Daniel’s lips as I palm the unmistakable bulge in his pants and I am glad for the boat’s loud motor noise.
He blinks at me, watching me with veiled reservation as if to check for my reaction and grins as I move one leg over his writhing ones, slowly straddling his thigh and turning my back to the glittering city that swerves past us.
For a second I am frozen when I realize that I could not even see them coming now.
“Jasim…” Daniel groans, calling me back, his lips even slower now than before. “I want to… touch you…” The words are muddled in a way that I barely understand them but I figure out the meaning from his blown eyes, a shiver running down my spine in anticipation.
I take his left hand, gently guiding the stubbornly twitching limb between us and let the side of his crooked fingers glide over the straining fabric, my cock pulsing below his touch.
“Fuck, yes…” I whisper, my head falling forward on his chest while I keep his hand in place, rolling my hips slightly to meet the twitching fingers.
“Jasim…” Daniel moans, but he says nothing more, his chest heaving below me.
His body is warm under me, legs moving randomly, and pleasure boils in my veins, causing sweat to break on my forehead and throaty moans to escape my lips. I rock up into Daniel’s hand desperately, grabbing it with both of mine to keep it steady, chasing the friction. His other hand is on my back, a comforting presence, the fingers dig into flesh following a secret rhythm.
Daniel laughs softly, his hand jumping over my clothed erection. “Slow…” he says into my ear, voice rumbling. “Take it… slow, Jasim.”
I whine and squeeze my eyes shut but follow the order, forcing my hips to languidly push against his quivering hand. But it is not enough now, not by a long shot, I feel like every fiber in my body is on fire and my cock burns through the confinement of my pants.
After a few minutes of torture I have enough. I let Daniel’s hand fall between us and carelessly rip open the belt, button and zipper of my pants. The fresh wind biting at the exposed skin makes me flinch and want to cry with relief at the same time, tugging at myself to get the tension down.
“Geez…” Daniel rumbles. “Impatient… I should teach… you… a lesson.”
His right hand squeezes my butt, hard, making me gasp.
He grins. “Hands… off.”
I whine, taking my hands from myself. “Please….” Feverishly, I catch his flailing left arm, take his curled hand in mine but Daniel stops me with a warning sound.
“I cannot… promise… being… gentle…” he says.
“I don’t want gentle,” I groan.
Daniel’s hand in mine contracts suddenly and he makes a choked sound.
Daniel watches me, then blinks his okay and I keep his wrist in place, the fingers dancing. One or two brush the shaft and my breath hitches. My hips buck up on their own account, and Daniel moans hoarsely as his hand comes in more contact with hot skin. I check with him again.
I nod and gently cup his hand with mine, helping his fingers wrap around my length. They do not all want to close around it completely but they provide enough of a sort of tunnel that I can push through, his fingers sliding down my length as I start bucking up into his hand.
“Oh god…” I moan.
Daniel chuckles throatily and his fingers squeeze around me, shooting a pulse of pleasure up my spine. “Still… not quite.”
I increase speed, thrusting into Daniel’s fist, hot arousal bubbling up within me. I have one hand braced on Daniel’s shoulders, the other firmly steadying his fist, while I chase my orgasm. We both turn our heads down to stare at the tip of darker flesh appearing and disappearing fast on the other end of our joined hands, Daniel’s body jostling around a bit.
I groan and lean back, moaning as the angle changes, and swipe with my thumb over the sensitive head. Daniel struggles to hold his hand still enough, but I feel it jerk against mine nevertheless, roughly tugging at me, relentlessly driving me toward the edge. His legs dance under us, pushing me up and toward him once in a while.
“Are you…” Daniel says, his fingers twitching as he speaks, accidentally clamping down on the shaft and punching air from my lungs. “Getting close?”
“Y-yes… fuck…” I manage to hiss between my teeth. “I’m close.”
“Good…” Daniel says. “Hold… back…”
His other hand fists into my shirt, raking it up a bit. He gropes to get under it, hot fingers skirting my abs, fingernails driving into the skin. He finds one of the hard nipples, twisting it with sudden precision and I have to bite on my lips to not cry out loud, sparks of pleasure exploding behind my eyelids and making me heady. Daniel’s hand around my cock tightens and I feel all the warmth concentrating between my legs and my balls drawing up, my vision narrows and the blood rushes in my ears, I can barely hear myself pant anymore.
“I’m close, Daniel. I’m close… I can’t- Ah!”
The ring of Daniel’s fingers stops moving suddenly, resting firmly around the base of my cock.
“Get mine out,” he says.
I howl and gasp for air. “What?” Stars are dancing in front of my eyes, blood pulsing through my body. I have been so, so fucking close.
I whine and move trembling fingers to his pants, undoing the button with unpracticed motions. Daniel’s flushed and leaking cock springs free, bobbing against his belly.
“Fuck…” I am dizzy with arousal, taking in the musky scent as my fingers touch the white skin, move over the soft ridge of his hipbone inward, card lightly through the blond curled hairs. Almost shyly now, one fingertip touches the flushed cock, follows the slight curve to the tip. “Fuck…”
“Get them… both,” Daniel rattles and as my head snaps up I can tell he is as close as I am. His breathing is wet and irregular and his head is tilted back, features contorted with spasms.
I do not bother with his hands right now, his arms are rigid at his side and his fingers curled into convulsing fists. I fit both of my hands around us, and the moment our slicked cocks knock together I fear I am going to come. But through shear will of mind I manage not to, instead I force myself to go slow, although the feeling of him sliding against me is too much to not become insane. His cock is heavy and foreign in my hand and still the mechanisms of pleasure are the same. He leaks enough precome for the both of us, and I smear it over us as I move my hands up and down our joined cocks, causing Daniel’s body to answer with a bone-rattling shudder every time. I pull his foreskin down, amazed at the sight, experimentally letting it glide back in place again, down again, and carefully touch the flushed skin underneath.
Daniel hisses. “Faster,” he barks.
I oblige, moving my hips to make my hard member glide against his, my hands becoming a blur around us. The pleasure curses through my body, my heart hammering in my chest and I feel myself getting there again fast. Daniel’s hips buck up against me without rhythm, he groans and gulps for air, his mouth fallen open. His head gets forced to the side and I lean forward, sucking and lapping at the exposed soft skin on his neck.
Just then Daniel jerks violently, a hoarse cry erupting from his lungs, and he goes rigid for a split second before collapsing forward against me, twitching through his release. I continue stroking him, feel his cock pulsing in my hand as he spills ropes of come between us, while he is moaning into my chest.
I let go of him when he is starting to squirm weakly, his brows pinched, and hold him up at the shoulder with one hand as I finish myself off, head cloudy, only a few feverish strokes necessary to unload into my fist, my forehead pressed against his unsteady one as I orgasm harder than I have in years, come quelling up between my fingers and my entire body trembling through it.
“Jesus… Christ,” Daniel drawls, as I prop him to sit back against the bench.
I fish for a tissue in my pockets and luckily find some, sloppily cleaning us both off, gently swiping come from Daniel’s limp cock before I tuck him back in his pants and do the same with me. All the while Daniel is breathing heavily as if still fighting for breath, slumped into the seat, only a limb occasionally jumping weakly.
I throw the soiled tissues in the nearby trash can.
“Muhammad,” I say with a smile as I slip onto the bench and tuck myself into his side.
Daniel chuckles tiredly, his soft hand twitching marginally in mine. “Right… Forgot…” he says, turning his head and nuzzling into my hair, shivers running down my back.
After a few drowsy minutes he inhales slowly. “My sister… would probably be willing… to spend some more time… doing whatever she likes. Care… for a drink?” Daniel asks in a mumble, not moving from his position and I let my head fall against his.
“Yeah, sure. I don’t drink alcohol, though.”
“Really?” Daniel squeezes my hand. “I mean… after… this… I thought…”
“Really.” I squeeze his hand back.
“Okay. But still?”
“Yes,” I say, happiness rushing through my veins, replacing the post-orgasm emptiness. “I would love to. My shift will be over by the time we return, provided Ivana does not find any additional things for me to do.”
Lately this has grown into a habit of her, holding me back at least fifteen minutes after end of shift with some kind of threadbare excuse, like needing help with checking gear or carrying the heavy trash bags from board. I think she is only doing it to annoy me.
I tell Daniel about her, relieved to have someone I can pour my complaints out for. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m a terrorist.”
Daniel looks at me, his brows pinched weirdly, before he starts laughing.
I stare at him, starting to get confused when he does not stop, roaring with laughter, his body shaking so violently I have to sling my arm around his chest to keep him seated.
“What?” I ask, starting to get a bit angry.
Daniel shakes his head, giggling still. “She might… be thinking that… I don’t know…” He sobers down, looking at me, his eyes fond. “But I don’t… think… that’s it.”
“What? What is it then?”
“You… haven’t… noticed?” Daniel asks, brows raised and lips twitching in an effort to stay serious. “It’s… kinda… obvious.”
“No? What the fuck is going on?” I have my hands wrapped around Daniel’s upper arms.
“She fancies you,” Daniel says, smiling. “She… likes you.”
My mouth falls open. “She… what? But… that’s so complete bullshit, why would she treat me that way when-“
“She likes… you… but… she also… knows she cannot… have you.”
I stare at Daniel, ice freezing in my veins. “She knows I’m… gay?!”
Daniel looks like he is fighting off laughter again. “She would… be blind… not to…” he says, blinking at me.
I sputter. “That’s… shit…” I watch him, his head wiggling slightly as he looks back at me, his green eyes open and full of honesty. No, he is not joking. “Fuck…” I tilt my head to the side. “That’s… uh… that’s good. In a way. I guess.”
“If… you say… so…”
I know Daniel cannot follow me, how should he. He does not know the former version of me, the one that consisted of secrets and lies alone, the person that had to hold everything in check, shut in their own feelings and own desires, to not get caught.
“Yes,” I say, framing his face with my hands and kiss his soft lips, slowly, savoring it, not caring if the world is watching us, for the world already knows. “Yes. It is.”