5' 3"
"My goodness, what a sweet child!" Morgan squealed, holding one of the pictures in a mahogany tree frame. Despite the fact that Noah felt extremely shy and cautious and behaved accordingly to those feelings, today, when he came to Ethan's house, he seemed much more relaxed. Thomson thought that Morgan would turn pale and red, considering why he had been asked to visit in the first place. However, Ethan was wrong in his assumptions. There was no awkwardness in sight. Even if Noah was actually nervous, he was hiding it well, walking around Thomson's room and examining everything he saw with great curiosity. The only thing he ignored was the painting hanging on the wall. For some reason, Noah was avoiding it.
Besides keeping hundreds of law books in the bookcases in the farthest corner of Thomson's room, Ethan also buried memories about a person who had been gone a while ago: they were memories about Ethan Thomson, who could bear people's touch easily, who was able to get on well with everyone, and who believed in a better future. That past, naive and careless Ethan left after himself a line of problems and a pile of stupid photos that now had the role of memorial. Sometimes Thomson would let his glance dwell on the shelves, which would make him dive into anxious nostalgia. Yes, he missed those simple, careless times, but he didn't miss the old version of himself. He thought he was ten feet tall back then. This blind faith didn't let him develop a skill to stand up against the attacks of destiny. Instead, it moved him towards the easier, but wrong way, which Ethan had to pay for for the rest of his life.
Thank you, old me. Thanks for disappearing. Please, never come back. Stay where you are, in another bad trip in some nasty, filthy corner of the street, with some drunk and fat guy's dick in your mouth. Good luck dying from an overdose or choking on your own puke.
Thomson hated this smiling, naughty boy, who was awfully spoiled and never appreciated anything, especially what his mother had done for him. However, he never had the guts to throw the pictures with that Ethan away, since half of the pictures had the whole family in them, and the other half was taken by his mother. She loved photography, so she was the one responsible for Ethan's interest in this hobby. Taking pictures on a film camera felt like magic, where an important (or not so important) moment would get imprinted into a layer of film or saved on a digital camera and turn into a door to the past. It was a real-time machine for emotions.
"No matter what would happen later, you'd always remember the feelings you went through when you heard the sound of a shutter," his mother would say. "God knows life can get difficult, and happy moments fly by too fast sometimes. That's why they may seem vague and unimportant behind the line of never-ending problems, and that's why they sometimes vanish from our memory. However, a photograph will let you remember how hot the sun was that day. Or how grasshoppers were chirping. Or how cars were honking in a traffic jam. You'd remember the smell from a new bakery. Or your friends' deafening laugh at bowling when you'd miss instead of hitting a strike. Of course, it's not really about the sounds, the scene, or the people around you. The most important thing here is your condition at that moment. Your feelings. Take pictures when you're dealing with something strong. No matter whether it's good or bad. The storm will pass, but every time you'd look at the picture, you'd remember how big it was and what caused it. The good things will warm up your soul again, whereas the bad things will remind you not to make the same mistakes again and rethink the past.
Ethan tried following his mother's advice. Maybe that was why his phone gallery was full of pictures with Morgan? Ethan wanted to remember every second spent with him because, according to his experience with his mother, no happiness was eternal. So he knew he should collect as many photos as he could before things fell apart. Ethan knew that he didn't have to think that their relationship with Morgan wasn't going to last. His position was wrong from the very beginning. However, the anxious, quiet voice was never silent, day or night.
You didn't deserve it. You have no right to have it. You're going to screw everything. As soon as this lovesickness ends, he'll see all the things you are afraid and hate about yourself, and he'll leave.
Ethan was trying his best to keep those thoughts away. But they kept coming back. They appeared in his head early in the morning, ruining the rest of the day. They would again appear late in the evening, after the lights were off. They were blinding him while Ethan was taking a shower. The only time they didn't bother him was when Morgan was around, because his actual presence confirmed that the things happening between them weren't so pathetic and had a chance to succeed.
"Yes, I was quite...sweet, I guess," Ethan said, approaching Noah and looking at the picture he was holding. In the picture, one could see that the whole family was packing to go hiking in the woods with tents. Ethan's backpack looked bigger than him, and Audrey decided to bring her stuffed unicorn for some reason, refusing to leave the house without her favorite toy the day before.
Noah put the picture back in its place and continued examining the others. Besides family photos, there were also pictures from school. Ethan's parents ignored fancy private schools and sent their kids to a regular governmental school. His father used to always say that the urge to succeed shouldn't outweigh the importance of a childhood. Private schools for rich kids usually had the other side: an unbearable sense of competition, aggression towards each other, and a lot of drugs (however, they couldn't protect Ethan from them). Michael wanted his kids to participate in dumb talent shows organized in a school gym and make volcanoes out of toy clay; he wanted them to build a solar system out of painted little balls and get electricity from a potato battery. He didn't want them to think whose parents were wealthier and which kids were better to be friends with. He forgot, though, that garbage can be found everywhere, in every school, and it was sticking to the rich kids like gum.
In another picture, Ethan was with five of his classmates: four boys and one girl. They were all holding milkshakes, which Ethan's mom had paid for. They were going to play some games later, which Ethan would be paying for, and in the evening they were going to stop by a pizza place, where Ethan would also pay for everyone. Thomson didn't see a problem in paying for someone who had far less pocket money than he did. Everyone appreciated it. At least, that was what he had thought. Unfortunately, Ethan understood how wrong he was only a while later, when it turned out that his generosity had always been taken for granted (Your parents are rich, of course, you pay!), so when money disappeared (What do you mean you have no money?! Cut the crap! If you don't want to share, just say it!), and problems appeared (How come you have problems with all that money?!) – several years of friendship just ended. There was also a guy in the picture who offered Ethan to let it go and relax with drugs. Besides, Thomson had had a crush on him since middle school.
"Who's this cutie patootie here?!" Noah took two photos from the pile. Ethan was ready to cry out of despair after he saw them.
"My mom loved Halloween and Christmas, so she would always make up some costumes for me and my sister," Ethan said through his teeth. In the first picture, he was around ten. He was dressed up as Peter Pan. Audrey was a damn Captain Hook and mocked him constantly. In the second one, Ethan was wearing a Santa Claus' elf's costume on Christmas Eve. Audrey preferred dressing like a reindeer. If you think about it, she had always chosen something extraordinary. "Considering the fact that my birthday is on Halloween, it used to always turn into a freaking costume party. It was terrible."
"Oh, so your birthday is on October 31st?" Noah asked, surprised. "It's so cool!"
"Not really. You want to invite your friends for a birthday cake, and when they show up, if they show up, they're all dressed up as fairies or skeletons, full after eating candy and ready to go back trick or treating outside. Also, they'd give you bags of leftover candy instead of real presents. It always drove me mad."
"I'll beat you here, because it might sound funny, but my birthday is on your mom's second-most favorite holiday. On Christmas," Noah smiled.
Memo number one: Morgan's birthday is on December 25th.
"So my birthday was always even more boring. No one would come to my house because everyone was with their families. And I used to always get only one present, both for my birthday and for Christmas. I thought it was unfair when I was a child. Everyone would get two celebrations and two presents. And I would get only one."
Memo number two: buy two presents for Morgan's birthday. Or even three. Four. The more, the better.
"When you were a child. And what about now?"
Noah shrugged his shoulders:
"Now I don't really care. I haven't celebrated my birthday for a while. I prefer to act as if it doesn't exist."
Memo number three: organize a birthday party for him.
"Now I'm going to feel like Jack Skellington [a protagonist from Tim Burton's 'The Nightmare Before Christmas' poem. According to the plot, people from a little town called Halloween Town, under Jack's management, are trying to change Christmas celebration into its darker version]," Ethan said, chuckling.
"That skeleton that was trying to steal Christmas?"
"Exactly. Although, every Christmas I'm going to steal you."
Morgan blushed and went back to looking at the pictures.
"And…you had a crush on that guy, hadn't you?" Noah decided to change the subject, probably thinking that his nervous system wasn't ready for that type of conversation. Noah tapped the other picture with the same classmates. He was pointing at a blonde guy.
"I had. He was my first love. FYI, it was quite messed up," Ethan answered coldly. "How did you know about that?"
"It shows."
Ethan looked at himself, and the only thing he noticed was his dark gray eyes looking at the camera. Oh, and the broad smile that hadn't shown on his face for ages. Thomson remembered that day. He felt happy. Truly happy. However, now that smile seemed fake, just like everything else. His friends, who weren't really friends. And a rich, spoiled, but ambitious boy who would turn his life into dust only some years later in the future.
"It's not coming from you," Noah explained quickly. "It's coming from him. He knew that you liked him."
"I see…" interesting information. Anyway, that made sense. Joshua always knew how to twist Ethan around his finger. "What did he feel?" he shouldn't have asked that question. Thomson wouldn't like the answer for sure.
"I don't know. I think he was self-centered."
Which was to be expected.
Probably Noah noticed Ethan's change in mood, so he changed the subject again.
"How did you find out you were gay? I mean… How did you accept it after you understood it about yourself?"
"And you?" Ethan returned the question.
"Oh," Noah rubbed his temple. "It wasn't easy at first. When my school friends started talking about the girls and discussing their... well, shapes, I guess, I understood that I wasn't interested in that. And then, during our math class, I looked at Tim Florence and fell for him completely. I was so nervous. Even a week hadn't passed when I told my grandma everything. We had a long talk, and at the end she persuaded me that everything was fine and I shouldn't have worried about it. She said that my family would always be on my side, no matter what I'd choose. However, I came out to my parents much later.
"And what happened to Tim Florence?"
"I told him about my feelings, and he punched me in the eye," Noah laughed. "Later, of course, he told the whole school about me. Though nobody mocked me for that. Truly speaking, there were quite a few queer people in my school."
"That Florence had no idea who he missed," Ethan mentioned, playing with a rope that he had been holding since the moment Morgan arrived. Noah was acting like he hadn't noticed that thing. "My situation was a bit more amusing," Thomson admitted, leaning against the bookcase. "When I was thirteen, our mom and dad took Audrey and me to watch Italian opera. They wanted to instill a sense of the beautiful; let's put it that way. Audrey had slept through the whole action, and I couldn't get my eyes off a vocalist with a gorgeous bass-baritone. I couldn't understand a word he sang, of course, but I didn't care. After the opera, our parents asked us whether we liked it. Audrey asked not to take her to such a boring place. And I—
"And you?" Noah rushed him.
"And I said I'd fuck the vocalist," Ethan said. Noah turned around slowly towards Thomson and stared at him like he was crazy.
"Did you really say that?" he asked suspiciously.
"Yes, I did really say that," Ethan shrugged his shoulders. "Our parents were trying to build a trust-based relationship with us. They weren't shy if they had to talk about sex with me and Audrey. Thanks to the Internet, we already knew a thing or two without their help. However, their attempts to have an open dialogue about such topics did inspire confidence that we could talk to them about anything. That was true."
"So they didn't say anything to you?"
"Sure, you bet," Ethan chuckled. "You should've seen their faces. I gave them a huge shock. And later they were persistently having conversations with me that, considering how young I was, it wasn't the best idea to choose a partner who'd be a lot older than me (the vocalist I had a crush on was probably around thirty). They were trying their best to explain that lust and love were two different things, and even if you experienced the first one, it was always better to aim for the second one.
"You have nice parents."
"They were amazing. However, maybe they could think twice before giving a thirteen-year-old a pack of condoms. I used the whole pack the next day."
Noah turned pale; he clearly forgot about the things Ethan had told at the drug addicts anonymous meeting.
"What have you thought about, Morgan? My friends and I filled the condoms with water and started throwing them out of the window. My parents were called to school later. Can you imagine what kind of humiliation they had to go through while our principal was yelling at them that their son had found condoms somewhere and embarrassed everyone?"
"Jesus Christ!" Noah moaned with laughter. "I see you were a little terror back in the day!"
"Yeah. My parents were never bored," Ethan smirked.
"Did you tell your first love about your feelings?"
"No."
"Why? I won't believe you were shy," Noah said.
"To be honest, I don't know. Probably, I was concerned about something. Although I couldn't get exactly what it was... But I think we ended up deep in a conversation and completely forgot the actual reason you came here today," Thomson noticed, toying with the rope.
"First of all, I came here to see you," Noah smiled.
"Sure thing. But it's not the only reason. Take your clothes off," Ethan said.
Morgan froze and shivered.
"I told you I won't do it," he mumbled stiffly.
"Why?" Are you scared?"
"It's not about me being scared. I just don't really look nice."
"So do you mean you'll never take your clothes off in front of me? Like ever?" Ethan made sure, emphasizing the last word.
"No… Someday, I guess, but still…"
"You guess?" Thomson asked to repeat and narrowed his eyes.
"I'll take my clothes off someday," Noah said with a pressure in his voice.
"Why don't you do that now?"
Noah bit on his lip nervously. His 'no' wasn't too definite, so Ethan let himself continue pushing.
"I'm afraid you're not really in love with me, so my looks will scare you off," Morgan answered honestly.
"I'm ten times more in love with you than it needs to be," Ethan said within the blink of an eye. "Take your clothes off. You don't have to get fully naked. Your t-shirt and a shirt should be enough."
Today Noah changed his usual color palette and showed up wearing a black t-shirt, black jeans, and a black kimono shirt. The shirt was decorated with red cranes.
This change was already meaningful because Morgan, who was an artist, probably cared more about the colors of his clothes than Thomson. If one dismissed dry facts and dove into the submeanings (there was a chance there were no submeanings, of course), Noah usually preferred marine-themed clothes and colors: a serene port or a gale warning. Red was considered to be the color of passion. Usually Morgan didn't wear it. Until this day. It might've sounded too made up, but Ethan hoped he was right.
Jeans were also different from the regular ones: instead of skinny ones, Noah was wearing loose and 'ripped into pieces', like Ethan's father used to say. Besides, Noah's naked body was visible through these holes (even though they were only legs). Moreover, these jeans were much easier to take off than all the others he had worn before. Ethan couldn't stop thinking about it.
"Do you need a hand?" Ethan suggested, grabbing Noah's wide sleeve of the shirt. Thankfully, he had already put on two pairs of black latex gloves so that he wouldn't need to worry about touching Morgan with his bare hands.
"No-no, I'm fine," Noah got embarrassed. "I need to warn you first."
"About what? I don't care if you have three nipples."
"I don't have three nipples!"
"Then what?"
"Well, I'm really skinny."
"Oh, really? I've never noticed," Ethan couldn't help but say sarcastically.
"No, you don't understand. I'm really skinny," Noah insisted, taking his shirt off. "I'm all skin and bones."
"Okay."
"Ribs are visible!"
"Okay."
"And I have like zero muscles."
"Okay."
"Is your record stuck?"
"No. I'm waiting for you to list all of your insecurities," Ethan sighed. "So later we could finally begin."
Morgan frowned but stopped being so hard on himself. He turned his back towards Ethan, took his t-shirt awkwardly, and flinched again as if he was cold. However, the room temperature remained perfect. Ethan uncoiled the rope efficiently. His thoughts were far away from those Noah had worried about. There was a half-naked guy standing in front of Thomson, which he liked. And he liked him a lot. He liked him madly. And Noah's skinniness was the last thing Ethan cared about. More important was to keep his self-control and cool-headedness.
Don't rush, Thomson. Breathe through your nose and try not to hold your attention on... white, clear, like canvas, skin, on which the marks from the rope would look incredible. Don't pay attention to all of these constellations of freckles on his shoulder blades. Don't look at the Apollo dimples, though they were rarely seen on people. Don't look at the straight line of his spine, narrow waist, and broad shoulders. And there was definitely no need to notice the black waistband of his underwear visible above the jeans. Stop staring, you idiot! A perfect line connecting the neck and the shoulder shouldn't awaken your imagination... It shouldn't awaken anything!
"Do I need to sit down on the bed again?" Noah asked. "Ethan?" he called, when there was no answer. Thomson finally shook himself free from his sudden, unwelcome delusion.
"No. You have to stand up today. Turn around."
Noah hesitated but finally faced Thomson.
Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm.
Calm down now!
Ethan folded the rope in half and tied a knot where the rope bent to fixate the middle part. Manual dexterity should've distracted him from half-naked Noah, who, for some weird reason, had thought that he wasn't sexy. What an idiot.
After leaving an inch-sized loop, Ethan slipped the rope on Noah so that the knot would end up between his shoulder blades. The ends of the rope slipped over Morgan's shoulders on his chest.
"Aren't you going to tie my hands today?" Noah sounded surprised.
"Why would I need to undress you then?" Ethan smirked. "Though, you're right, I'll just undress you every time, despite the type of bondage," he promised, tying the knot just a bit lower than Noah's sternal notch.
"Maybe it's not a good idea," Morgan mumbled, watching Ethan's hands. Thomson tied the second knot lower than the first one. The distance between the knots was about 3.5 inches. In order to look beautiful, the rest of the knots should've been tied up in the same distance.
"I know better," Ethan noticed.
"It looks more like a leash right now," Morgan grunted, talking endlessly when he'd feel anxious. And right now Noah was definitely anxious.
"No, it doesn't. However, if you wish, I could walk you on that leash around the house."
"No, thank you!"
"So judgemental. Your loss. Some get turned on."
"I don't."
"Then what works with you?"
"What?"
"What are the things that turn you on?"
"N…"
"N?"
"Nothing!"
"Lies."
"Well…" Morgan rushed his hand through his hair nervously. "You turn me on," he almost whispered, making Ethan shiever a little.
"It would be weird if you didn't…" Thomson smiled, hiding the emotional apocalypse behind his fake confidence. "I meant another thing, though. I thought about additional stimulation. Like porn, for example. You do watch porn, don't you?"
"Uh… Maybe I've seen it a couple of times..."
"You don't like it? Why?"
"I don't know. There's a feeling of rejection when I see it."
Ethan had already tied five knots, the last lying on Noah's abdominal. Now he needed to spread the ropes along Morgan's inguinal region. Just for a moment, Ethan had the urge to tie two more knots, one of which would lend on his penis and another, apparently, would press on Morgan's behind, but Thomson got rid of this idea quite fast, thinking that it would be too much for that kind of intimacy.
"Actually, every person has their own preferences, and you need to choose a genre of porn according to them. If you're just watching everything randomly, you can come across something so boring, or so disgusting, that you would feel nauseous after hearing the word 'sex' for a month straight," Ethan explained, squeezing the ropes between Noah's legs.
"Ouch," he heard Morgan's voice.
"Is it too tight?"
"I…Uh… I don't know."
"How can you not know?" Ethan asked, surprised. "Does it hurt? You don't feel well? Is it uncomfortable?"
"How can it possibly feel comfortable when you have a rope sticking up your butt?" Noah asked a fair question.
It's fine. You're going to like it.
"Okay. It's uncomfortable. Is it bearable?"
"Kind of."
"And now?" Ethan pulled a bit more.
"Oh, stop-stop-stop!"
"Okay," Ethan loosened the rope a little and then divided the ropes, wrapped them around Noah, and put the ends under Morgan's armpits. "Speaking of porn, I think we should watch it together," Ethan had no idea whether he was trying to distract Noah from his actions or himself from Noah.
"Why?" Morgan frowned.
"Couples usually do that for foreplay."
"What's the point in foreplay if there's nothing coming up?"
Ethan looked up quickly at the already red-faced guy.
"Low blow, Morgan."
Noah got embarrassed and silent.
"S-sorry, I didn't mean it."
"That's exactly what you meant," Ethan frowned, not even trying to hide his irritation.
"I'm an idiot."
"No. You're impatient. And I thought I was a seducer in our relationship, not some twenty-one-year-old virgin, turning red after a single hint to sex," Ethan pulled the ends of the rope towards the chest and put them between the first and the second knots. After pulling them enough, a nice diamond shape appeared.
"What's wrong with me being a virgin at twenty-one?"
"Nothing."
"It's not my fault that…"
"I didn't say I was blaming you for something."
"But you said..."
"I expressed surprise, and you heard some blame. Don't try to find another meaning of the words you heard from me. If I had any complaints about your virginity, I would've told you about them directly, not through some veiled references."
"Oh, like you always tell everything directly," Morgan said disappointedly. He was ashamed of what he had said earlier and didn't know what to do. Ethan didn't accept self-castigation, and Noah didn't think of anything better than to defend himself.
"Not always," Thomson agreed. "For example, right now I'm awkwardly trying to hide how much I want you," Ethan made another decorative wrap and put the ends of the ropes again behind Noah, who looked frozen like a statue. "You want to ask, why?" he asked casually.
"No."
Of course not. He was aware of the answer, since he had said it himself a minute earlier. What was the point if there was nothing coming up?
It's not that simple, Morgan. I can always find a way to…
"God, I'll hate myself for years after saying this," he heard a quiet regret.
"You don't have to. Fairly speaking, you're coping quite well with it," Ethan assured him. Keeping the same tension of the rope and regulating its position to make the bondage look straighter, Thomson put the ends of the rope under the vertical part of the bondage, which was now going along Morgan's back. After he twisted both ends through it, Ethan pulled them up to the front part of the construction.
"Coping with what?"
"With motivation."
"Motivation to what?"
"To everything."
"Not much information."
Ethan repeated the previous actions, making a new diamond shape and wrapping the rope around Noah's torso, underneath his chest. The third line squeezed Noah's ribs, and the fourth one accented his slim waist.
"Almost done," Ethan announced, going behind Noah for another time. "Put your hands behind your back," Morgan obeyed silently. Ethan tied Noah's wrists easily and was satisfied by the result. This knot wasn't usually a part of the bondage, but Thomson decided it would look better that way. After he had finished the bondage, he slowly walked around Morgan, observing how well the ropes were fixated on the pale skin.
"How are you?"
"Fine."
"Do you want to look at yourself?"
"I'm not sure."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Come here and look," Ethan nodded at the full-length mirror at the door.
"Come? Oh… But…Uh…"
"What's wrong?"
"The rope's sticking into... everything."
"That's right," Ethan didn't look embarrassed. "That's the point. Come here; I didn't make it too tight. Besides, these bondages can often be worn underneath the clothes, so the ropes shouldn't hinder your movements."
"Yeah, and they definitely don't constrict my arms," Noah grunted.
"It was my personal decision," Thomson smiled. Morgan made a face while actually going through the different emotions. It was visible even through his loose jeans.
Noah approached the mirror while Ethan went to get his camera.
"Oh…" he heard from Morgan. "It looks, well…interesting," Noah gave an evaluation of Ethan's work, looking at himself in the mirror. "If only I wasn't so skinny."
"Your weight doesn't make a difference here," Ethan answered, standing by Noah's side. "It's not about your constitution."
"I think it would look awesome on Andrea," Morgan continued protesting. Ethan would think that he was asking for a compliment if he didn't notice how the guy was shuddering, feeling clearly shy.
"Yes, Andrea would probably look wonderful…" Noah hung his head. "...for Scott," Ethan finished. "And you look wonderful to me. Can I take a couple of pictures?" Thomson showed Morgan his Polaroid.
Noah shrugged his shoulders, like 'whatever.'
Ethan took a picture of his back. Then he zoomed into his tied arms and turned Noah around to face him, fetched a piece of the rope that was squeezing his neck, and took another shot; his black glove also got into the photo. In order to see the polaroids, you needed to wait for a couple of minutes, so Ethan placed them on the table.
"Can you sit down on the bed? I want to take some more pictures."
Noah sat down on a bouncy mattress.
"Can I take some pictures with your face?" Morgan heard another question from Ethan. Ambiguous feelings rose in Noah's head, so he needed a moment to give his answer.
"Okay."
"If you refuse, I won't bite," Ethan reminded just in case.
"I know."
"And it's going to be between you and me only."
"Okay."
Ethan came right to the bed and stood between Noah's legs, pointing his camera at him.
"Look at me."
Noah looked up at Ethan. There was a sea hidden in this person. The wild waves underneath his forced calmness.
In order to take a new picture, Thomson put his knee between Noah's legs.
"Can you lay back on the bed?"
"May I not do that?"
"Why?"
"You said you wouldn't bite if I refused to do something."
"I won't, but I want to know why."
"There's no reason; I just don't want to."
"Is it because you have a boner?" Ethan made sure. Noah flinched and cowered as much as the ropes let him do so.
"Oh my God, why are you doing this to me?!"
"What do you mean?"
"You really don't have to say it out loud!"
"We're in the room alone. No one will hear you except you and me. And we both know you're horny. I don't see a problem here."
"Let's just pretend like you didn't see anything," Noah asked quietly.
"It's not going to work. I did it last time. The limit is over," Ethan announced.
"So what's your suggestion?" Noah frowned.
The sea in his eyes was fascinating. Ethan felt his breath getting heavier. He was drowning in these eyes, hesitating to move forward. Morgan was embarrassed, for some reason, thinking that he was the only one getting aroused by this process. However, if Thomson controlled himself better only meant that he controlled himself better. It didn't mean that he hadn't felt anything. The mask was hiding how Thomson had been biting on his lips for a while now, feeling the salty taste of blood on his tongue. He hoped that it would sober him up. Nothing worked. His mind was messed up completely. The sea was taking him over.
Ethan raised Noah's chin with his bent index finger. Morgan decided that he wanted to take another picture, but Thomson put his Polaroid down and leaned down closer to Noah. A question rose in Morgan's eyes, which he hesitated to ask, thinking that it could scare Ethan off. He was looking at Thomson, not even blinking, watching his moves carefully. Ethan continued drowning. He was sinking, feeling his lungs burning.
It was a fleeting kiss. Just a slight touch through the close texture of the mask. It was only a faint touch, accompanied by the rising pulse, hurried breathing, and the heat spreading through the whole body. Ethan was losing control, which he had been holding on to the entire time, rapidly. The sea waves were seeping in him, ruining the rocks built by him, licking their sharp peaks, and making long cracks across the secure stronghold. Ethan had lost himself in his feelings for Morgan before he could actually realize it. And now Noah was getting inside his thoughts, sucking the air out of his consciousness.
Thomson pushed Noah to his back, his knee still pressed between Noah's legs, and leaned forward towards the guy.
"It's right about time to stop me," he warned, pressing his left palm on Morgan's chest.
"What if I don't want to?"
The rocks were falling apart under the building storm. The water was breaking down the mountain into dust.
"Stop me anyway."
"I won't."
It was definitely impossible to get rid of that obsession. Morgan probably felt uncomfortable laying on his own tied arms, but his attention was fully concentrated on Ethan and his following actions. The ropes were divided below the bottom knot and went between Noah's inguinal region and legs, which meant that access to the strategically important area was still granted. It was impossible to take Morgan's pants off, of course. However, it wasn't mandatory. Ethan, his eyes stuck on the marine depths, unbuttoned Noah's pants. Thomson was watching his reaction, promising to stop as soon as something would go wrong, no matter how deafening his arousal would get, no matter how blurred his vision would be from it, threatening to shake his principles away.
Stay sober.
Stay rational.
God damn it, pull yourself together!
The zipper went down. Morgan seemed breathless. Ethan saw how tense his body was. That was why the ropes were sticking harder and harder. The redness was already visible on the interfacing places, so the bondage pattern seemed imprinted into Noah's body. After changing his position a bit, Thomson pressed his knee again against the lower part of Noah's inguinal region, where two ropes were tied in one. He fetched the underwear's waistband, which seemed to be playing with him, with his finger, covered in black latex gloves, and went down the smooth skin.
"Oh, so you prefer shaving?"
"Shut up."
"Should I stop?"
"You should shut up and continue," Noah said irritatedly, inhaling soundly. Ethan bit his lip again unconsciously. Of course, he'd preferred touching it with another part of his body. This flashed thought made Ethan angry, and later he would've probably needed to think whether this urge was even legal, but now he was far more interested in Morgan laying underneath him. His fingers closed down upon Noah's hard bottom. His gloves were dry. A nice lubricant would definitely help here, though Ethan didn't have any. Neither, probably, had Noah. Should he back out? It sounded ambiguously, didn't it? Just be gentle. If you remember, how.
"It feels kind of rough," Noah reacted after the first move.
"I'm sorry. I don't have anything to lubricate it…"
"You can use your…saliva," Noah suggested, forgetting about the main problem.
I can't.
"Or maybe you can do it," Ethan suggested, getting his palm out of Morgan's underwear. Saliva wasn't the best substitution, although Ethan couldn't think of anything else. His dad was right after all, saying that something would definitely happen. Why Thomson didn't want to listen?
"Go ahead," Ethan offered Noah his palm.
"Could you… Well… Close your eyes?"
"No."
"I feel uncomfortable doing it."
"Get used to it," Ethan advised, applying pressure on Noah's inguinal region again.
"It's unfair."
"I know. Now lick it."
It was, indeed, unfair. Ethan wanted to touch his skin and feel its warmth with his bare skin, not through the gloves. He wanted to run his tongue across his sharp collarbones and bite into his neck near the jugular vein. He wanted to leave the red lines on his heaving chest and retracted abdomen. As well as several purple marks on Morgan's thighs. Ethan wanted to have him all... And he could only look.
"No, wait… First…" Ethan picked Noah's thighs and pulled him further on the bed so that there would be more space between his legs. A quiet moan flew from Morgan's lips.
"What's wrong? Are you one of those guys who cum after a little stimulation through the clothes?"
"Shut up! It's just been a while since... I mean… Just shut up!"
Ethan, holding a laugh, sat on his knees, nailed himself down to Noah, and then offered his hand again.
"Now lick it."
Noah swallowed.
"Can you extend it closer to me?"
"No. Do it yourself."
"My hands are tied. It's difficult."
"It should be difficult," Ethan explained. He didn't want to feel; he also wanted to see how Morgan's tongue would slide down the glove. Noah hesitated another moment before licking Thomson's palm shyly, immediately turning his face away after, trying to hide from his burning gaze.
"You know it's not enough," Ethan noticed. Noah swore quietly but continued and, surprisingly, flew into a passion quite quickly. Even though Ethan could still bear him touching his palm, though, when Noah sucked on his middle finger, Thomson felt uneasy. The waves were hitting the rock, like a hammer hitting the anvil, threatening to destroy everything with the unstopping pressure. Ethan pulled his hand back gently from Noah and put it down there again.
"Better?"
"Y-yeah…" Morgan affirmed, laying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. "I bet I'll die from humiliation afterwards."
"I hope that afterwards you'll feel anything but the urge to die," Ethan noticed, lowering his underwear a little, keeping the ropes in mind. Keeping his hand on Morgan's inguinal region, Ethan pressed against the mattress with another hand a couple of inches away from Noah's face, making him look at him, not at the ceiling. "You better ask for more."
Noah was trying to control himself, but the rope, which was restraining his wrists, didn't let him close his mouth with his hands. Surprisingly for Morgan as well, once in a while quite moans were coming through the сlenched teeth. Ethan was still looking. He was watching Noah react in response to his gentle touch and frowning and being taken away with emotions in response to his rough touch. He didn't say a word, completely focused on his feelings. Ethan was silent, fully focused on the guy in front of him. Nothing could disturb him from the unfolding scene—not his left hand turning numb, not his internal conflicts echoing with every move he made. The irrelevant thoughts were whispering that Morgan reacted the way he did because someone had skilled hands, because someone had already had his opportunities to practice in the past.
No, it wasn't true. It wasn't about his skills. Nothing that was happening right now had nothing to do with the past. It was all different. It felt differently. And Ethan would never think that they were doing something wrong or dirty.
"Ugh…Ethan!" there was a mixture of confusion and surprise in Morgan's voice. "W-wait, I think I...now... Oh!" Noah didn't finish his sentence, arched his back, and orgasmed with a sweet moan that flew from his dry lips.