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Stuck in his flat while he works on his next book, Max's only break is watering the plants on his roof, at least until he catches the eye of an attractive stranger on a train, which is stopped on the line passing his flat. Flirting's not that easy when all you've got is hand gestures, but that's not going to stop Max from fantasizing. Of course, no fantasy can last forever, and as Max is about to discover, making sure reality lives up to the fantasy isn't as easy as it sounds.




Noah prowls around the roof garden, touching the petals of Max's poppies, rubbing the mint leaves between his fingers, as Max leans against the side of the building, the wall warm at his back, and just enjoys watching Noah.

Which means that, when Noah turns around, Max is looking right at him, and he'd be incredibly surprised if his own interest and attraction isn't showing on his face. "You're doing great up here," Noah says, moving closer, his smile warm and open, friendly. "You've always been green-fingered?"

"Yeah," Max says, hardly aware of what he's saying, because Noah's smile is friendly but his body is decidedly something else; intent as he closes in on Max. He gets closer, too close. His feet are on either side of Max's and his hands on the wall by Max's waist, his whole body tilted into Max. All Max can really see is the green of Noah's eyes. "Hi," he says, his voice coming out low and turned on.

"Hi." Noah is matter of fact. "So, if you don't have any objections, I'd really like to suck your dick right now."

Max's dick, at least, definitely has no complaints about that suggestion. "None come to mind." He shifts slightly, meaning to push away from the wall, but Noah's hands slide up to cover his hips, hold him there.

"I didn't think they would." Noah's voice has gone lower, caramel-smooth, even better than Max's fantasy. The only point of contact is Noah's hands on Max's hips, and Max wants to tilt Noah's head, kiss him, except that Noah's pretty clearly in charge.

"Let's go inside," Max tries anyway.

Noah shakes his head, leans in so that his words are warm against Max's ear. "I want to do it right here. Go on my knees and put your cock in my mouth, where anyone can see. Trust me, you can see this whole space from the train. I want to suck you 'til you can't even see, 'til you're shaking and moaning and anyone looking over will know exactly what we're doing."

Max closes his eyes; he can't help seeing it, can't swallow down his instinctive moan.

"Would you like that?" Noah asks. "Friday night, some of the trains will still have to stop up here until the line clears through. We'll give some poor commuter the best train journey they've ever had."

"What about you?" Max is pleased that he manages to get even three words out in the right order, when his head is spinning with Noah's voice, Noah's words, the picture Noah's painting for them both.

"I was hoping for a hammock," Noah says. "I've never fucked anyone in a hammock." Max moans again, caught up.

"So maybe I'll just push you up against this wall," Noah adds, thoughtful. "Or maybe I'll bend you over the other wall, fuck you with your face in the parsley, so you can see the people on the train realize what's happening, see them watch me take you when you're all wrung out from being in my mouth."

"Oh, God," Max says weakly. He's hard enough to be dizzy with it, rocks his hips in a vain attempt to get some friction where he really needs it. "Please. Please."

Noah shudders. "God, that's hot."

Max closes his eyes, drops his head back against the wall in submission. "Please," he says again. "Oh, please, Noah, suck me. Please."

"You gonna beg like that when I've got my cock in you?" Noah slides one hand around and starts on the buttons of Max's pants. "You gonna beg for my cock even when you've just come?"

He pushes Max's pants down to his thighs, goes down to his knees as he does, and Max says, "Yes," with no idea if he's saying yes to begging or yes to Noah on his knees. Maybe both.



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August 2013

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