Nearby
Sunday morning proved Liam right.
Noah discovered this approximately three seconds after getting out of bed. His feet reached the floor. His legs took his weight. Then both thighs objected.
“Fuck.”
He caught himself against the edge of the desk and stood there waiting for the worst of it to settle. Marcus had said stretching would help. Marcus was a liar. Noah shuffled towards the wardrobe with considerably less dignity than he would have preferred. Sunlight already filled the room, bright enough around the curtains to promise another hot day. He was naked; the sheet had slipped during the night and the air felt cool against his bare cock, which hung soft and heavy between his legs.
His phone vibrated on the bed behind him. Noah looked over.
Ryan.
Beach still happening?
Noah smiled and lowered himself carefully back onto the mattress, still naked, the soft weight of his cock resting against his thigh.
Depends.
On?
Whether I can get there.
That bad?
Noah stretched one leg experimentally. Bad decision.
Marcus should be arrested.
Ryan reacted with a laughing face. Then:
I can carry you.
Noah looked at the message, heat settling low despite the soreness.
That sounds threatening.
I was being helpful.
Were you?
A pause.
Mostly.
Noah laughed, the movement making his cock thicken slightly against the sheet.
Eleven?
I’ll be there.
Another message followed.
Try walking.
Fuck you.
See? Already motivated.
Noah dropped the phone onto the bed. Apparently Sunday was happening. He showered, which helped slightly - the hot water running over his sore muscles and down the length of his cock, which stayed half-interested from the messages. He pulled on the dark blue swim shorts he had worn the previous weekend. Nothing underneath. The soft fabric settled low on his hips, outlining the thick shape of him clearly if anyone looked. A loose white T-shirt followed. He packed sunscreen, towel, water and the book he had still barely managed to read despite carrying it to the beach twice.
Before leaving, he checked his phone. No new message from Thomas. There was one from his mother asking whether university had been everything you expected? Noah stared at the question. Not remotely. He replied that classes were good, the house was good and he had made some friends. All technically true. Then he left, the soft shorts brushing against his bare cock with every careful step.
Ryan was already near the beach entrance when Noah arrived. Noah recognised him before Ryan noticed him. That felt strange. For most of the week Ryan had existed in pieces first. Cropped torso. Silver chain. Black shorts. Then a face across a laboratory bench. Today there was nothing cropped about him.
He wore a faded grey T-shirt and black swim shorts with a backpack hanging from one shoulder. Sunglasses sat on top of his head. He was looking down at his phone when Noah approached. The black shorts sat low enough that the V of his hips was visible, the fabric soft and slightly strained in a way that suggested he was also going without underwear.
“You’re early.”
Ryan looked up. His expression changed immediately. “Holy shit. You made it.”
“Barely.”
Ryan’s eyes travelled down Noah’s body. Not subtly. The loose T-shirt. Then the blue shorts, lingering openly on the clear outline of Noah’s cock against the thin fabric, then back up.
“How are the legs?”
“Functional is probably generous.”
“Can you walk on sand?”
“We’re about to find out.”
Ryan smiled, eyes dropping once more to the front of Noah’s shorts. “I was serious about carrying you.”
“That is becoming more threatening every time you say it.”
“Your loss.”
They started towards the beach. The Sunday crowd was already building. Families clustered near the flags, children dragged bodyboards towards the water, and groups of students occupied increasingly ambitious sections of sand with towels, umbrellas and portable speakers. Ryan glanced at Noah as they walked, his gaze returning repeatedly to the soft blue shorts and the way they moved against Noah’s body.
“You look different.”
Noah looked down at himself. “Because I’m limping?”
“No.”
“Very flattering.”
Ryan laughed. “Without the lab coat.”
“Oh.”
“And the chinos.”
“There it is.”
“I liked the chinos.”
“You made that very clear.”
“I’m capable of appreciating multiple things.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan’s mouth curved. “Scientifically.”
“Obviously.”
They found space farther down the beach, beyond most of the families but still inside the patrolled area. Ryan dropped his bag onto the sand. Then pulled his shirt over his head.
Noah had seen most of him before. Photographs should have prepared him. They had not. Ryan was lean rather than heavily muscular, narrow through the waist with enough definition across his stomach to catch the sunlight when he turned. Dark hair crossed his chest lightly and continued in a narrow line towards the waistband of his shorts. The silver chain rested directly against his skin. The black swim shorts sat even lower without the shirt, the soft fabric clinging to the thick shape of his cock, the head faintly outlined where it rested against his left thigh. The profile photograph had been accurate. Incomplete, but accurate.
Ryan caught him looking. His eyebrows lifted. Noah looked deliberately back at his face. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Ryan smiled. “That convincing?”
“I was assessing the accuracy of your profile.”
“And?”
Noah pretended to consider, eyes dropping once more to the clear outline in Ryan’s shorts. “Acceptable.”
“Acceptable?”
“Some obvious cropping issues.”
Ryan laughed. “Sorry. Next time I’ll submit it for peer review.”
Noah pulled his own shirt off. Ryan stopped laughing. The change lasted barely a second. His eyes moved over Noah’s shoulders, chest and stomach, then lower - openly, slowly - towards the blue shorts and the thick outline of Noah’s cock pressing against the soft fabric. Noah noticed. He waited. His own cock thickened under the sustained attention, the movement visible. Ryan looked back at his face.
“Acceptable,” he said, voice lower.
Noah laughed. “Dick.”
“Peer review.”
They spread their towels beside each other. Noah sat carefully. His thighs complained. Ryan watched him lower himself, eyes lingering on the way the blue shorts stretched across Noah’s hips and the soft bulge between his legs.
“Marcus really did destroy you.”
“I’m never going with him again.”
“You’ve said that before.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan shrugged. “You complain about him a lot.”
“You remember too much.”
“I occasionally listen.”
The phrase was familiar from Friday. Noah smiled. Apparently Ryan actually did. His cock was half-hard now, the soft shorts doing nothing to hide it.
Sunscreen became the first practical problem. Noah worked it over his arms, chest and legs, then attempted his shoulders. Ryan watched for perhaps ten seconds, eyes tracking every movement of Noah’s hands across bare skin.
“You’ve missed half your back.”
“I know.”
“You’re very independent.”
“I’m managing.”
“You’re absolutely not.”
Ryan held out his hand. Noah looked at it. “What?”
“Give me the sunscreen.”
There was enough amusement in his voice that refusing would have felt more revealing than agreeing. Noah handed him the bottle and turned. Ryan shifted closer on the towel, knees almost touching Noah’s. The first touch landed between Noah’s shoulder blades. Cool sunscreen. Warm hands. Ryan spread it slowly across his back, working outward over his shoulders before moving lower. His touch was practical at first, firmer than Noah expected, thumbs following the muscles beside his spine with deliberate pressure. Then it slowed. Ryan’s palms flattened, fingers spreading, tracing every line of muscle with more attention than sunscreen required. Noah became very aware of sitting shirtless in front of him, cock thickening further inside the soft shorts under the sustained contact.
Ryan’s hands reached his lower back. Stopped just above the waistband. Then moved outward along his hips, fingers brushing the bare skin just above the fabric, thumbs pressing into the soft hollows beside his spine. The touch lingered. Noah’s cock was half-hard now, pressing clearly against the thin material. Ryan’s hands stayed a second longer than necessary, then another.
“Done.”
Noah looked over his shoulder. Ryan’s eyes were still on the small of his back, on the soft shorts, on the obvious outline. “That was suspiciously professional.”
“I contain multitudes.”
“You spend Fridays shirtless in bed.”
“Also true.”
Ryan handed the bottle back, fingers brushing Noah’s. “Your turn.”
Noah stared at him. Ryan turned around, presenting the lean line of his back, the silver chain shifting against the side of his neck. “Fair is fair.”
Noah squeezed sunscreen into his palm. Ryan’s back was warmer from the sun than Noah expected. He worked the lotion across his shoulders, following the lean shape down either side of his spine. Ryan stayed unusually quiet. Noah moved lower, palms sliding over warm skin, feeling the muscles shift under his hands. His fingers reached the waistband of the black swim shorts. He deliberately spread the last of the sunscreen along Ryan’s lower back, thumbs dipping just under the fabric, brushing the top of the cleft, the soft skin there. Ryan’s breath caught almost inaudibly. Noah’s fingers brushed the top of the waistband again, lingering, feeling the heat of Ryan’s body and the soft give of the fabric stretched over his ass.
Ryan glanced back. Noah stopped. “What?”
Ryan smiled, eyes dark. “Nothing.”
Noah deliberately spread the last of the sunscreen lower, fingers sliding just inside the waistband for a fraction of a second before withdrawing. “Done.”
“Very professional.”
“Obviously.”
Neither moved for a second. Noah’s cock was hard enough that the soft shorts were tenting slightly. Ryan’s were too, the black fabric stretched tight over a clear, thick outline. Then Ryan stood. “Water?”
Noah looked towards the surf, aware of every shift of fabric against his bare cock. “Cold.”
“You haven't even touched it.”
“I have experience.”
Ryan held out a hand. Noah stared at it. “Seriously?”
“Your legs.”
“I can stand.”
“Can you?”
Noah took the hand anyway. Ryan pulled him up. Perhaps slightly harder than necessary. Noah stumbled forward. Ryan caught him by the waist, hands firm on bare skin, fingers spreading across his sides, thumbs brushing the soft skin just above the waistband of the blue shorts. For half a second they were much closer than either had planned - chests almost touching, Noah’s hard cock pressed lightly against Ryan’s hip through the thin fabric, Ryan’s own hardness unmistakable against Noah’s thigh. Ryan’s hands remained against Noah’s sides, gripping, not letting go. Noah looked at him. Ryan looked back, eyes dropping to Noah’s mouth, then lower to the obvious tent in the blue shorts. Then Noah steadied himself, though neither of them stepped back immediately.
“You did that deliberately.”
Ryan let go slowly, fingers trailing. “Did what?”
Noah laughed, voice rougher. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet you invited me.”
That, annoyingly, was true. Noah’s cock was fully hard now, the soft shorts doing nothing to hide it as they walked toward the water.
The water was cold. Noah learned this with enough profanity that Ryan laughed at him from several metres farther out. “You’re enjoying this far too much.”
Ryan walked backwards into another wave, the black shorts now wet and clinging tightly to every thick inch of him, the head of his cock clearly outlined against the dark fabric. “You were very confident on land.”
Noah stopped. Something about the sentence was familiar. Thomas. Not the exact words, perhaps. Close enough to bring Thursday briefly back. The cove. Thomas floating beside him. The tight heat of Thomas’s body around his cock. Seven tomorrow morning. Ryan splashed water towards him. Noah blinked.
“You disappeared.”
“I’m standing directly in front of you.”
“Mentally.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan did not ask. That was becoming another thing Noah noticed about people. Thomas had known when to wait. Callum occasionally did too. Apparently Ryan could. Noah stepped farther into the water, the cold doing nothing to fully soften the hardness in his shorts. “Race you.”
Ryan stared. “To where?”
Noah pointed towards a yellow marker beyond the shallow break. Ryan looked from it to Noah. “Your legs barely work.”
“Scared?”
Ryan’s expression changed immediately. “Oh, fuck you.”
Noah grinned. They went. Noah regretted the decision within thirty seconds. Ryan reached the marker first. Not by much. Enough. He turned in the water as Noah arrived, wet hair plastered to his forehead, the black shorts moulded to his hard cock like a second skin. “You cheated.”
“How?”
“I haven’t worked that out yet.”
Ryan pushed wet hair from his forehead. “Take your time.”
Noah caught the marker rope and let himself float. Ryan stayed beside him, close enough that their legs brushed under the water. The beach looked smaller from there. The noise softened beneath the water, conversation becoming indistinct under the surf. For a minute neither spoke. Then Ryan said, “This is better than the lab.”
Noah looked over. “The scientific standards are considerably lower.”
“Exactly.”
“No pipettes.”
“No demonstrator.”
“No trousers.”
Ryan smiled, eyes dropping to the wet blue shorts clinging to Noah’s hard cock. “That one is important.”
Noah shook his head. Ryan’s black swim shorts were wet now, clinging differently than they had on land - every ridge and the thick shape of his cock fully visible. Noah’s attention dropped before he could stop it. He brought his eyes back up. Ryan had noticed. Of course he had. His own gaze was fixed on the wet blue fabric stretched tight over Noah’s erection.
“The fieldwork going well?”
Noah laughed, heat flooding him. “I was checking the equipment.”
“That sounded worse than anything I was going to say.”
“Good.”
They floated for another minute, legs brushing, both of them hard inside the clinging wet shorts. Then Noah pushed away from the marker. “Back?”
Ryan followed. “Giving up?”
“My legs would like to survive tomorrow.”
“Very sensible.”
“I’m growing.”
Ryan looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Thomas again. Noah let the thought pass, though the memory of being buried inside Thomas made his cock throb harder against the wet fabric.
They lay on their towels afterwards, drying in the sun. Ryan rested on his back with one knee raised and an arm over his eyes. The black shorts were still damp, the soft outline of his cock clear against his thigh. Noah had opened his book, read half a page and retained none of it - his attention kept drifting to the wet fabric stretched over Ryan’s hips. He closed it. Ryan moved his arm enough to look over, eyes immediately dropping to the front of Noah’s blue shorts, still damp and clinging.
“That going well?”
“No.”
“You’ve been on the same page for five minutes.”
“I was thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
Noah dropped the book beside the towel. For a while they listened to the beach. A football landed nearby. Someone apologised and collected it. A child screamed enthusiastically about something involving a crab. Ryan eventually said, “Can I ask you something?”
Noah looked across, aware of how close their towels were, how easy it would be to reach out. “That usually means I’m not going to like it.”
“You can tell me to fuck off.”
“Promising.”
Ryan looked towards the water. “Your friend Thursday.”
Noah knew immediately. “What about him?”
“Did it go okay?”
The question was different from the teasing Ryan had done in the laboratory. No smile. No performance. Noah looked up at the sky, the memory of Thomas’s body tight around his cock, the cum he had licked from Thomas’s stomach and painted across his face, still vivid enough to make him throb.
“Yeah.”
Ryan waited. “He left Friday morning.”
Ryan turned his head. “Left?”
“He was travelling.”
“Oh.”
“French backpacker.”
That got a small smile. “Of course.”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. It fits.”
“You didn’t know him.”
“No, but you said Grindr friend and then looked like you were trying not to explain something for twenty minutes.”
“It wasn’t twenty minutes.”
“Scientifically estimated.”
Noah smiled. “His name was Thomas.”
Ryan nodded. “How long did you know him?”
“Since last Saturday.”
Ryan looked surprised. “That’s not long.”
“No.”
Noah picked at a grain of sand stuck to his towel. “It felt longer.”
Ryan did not laugh at that. Thursday came back more clearly. Thomas under the rocks. Maybe I am better at leaving than staying. The bus pulling away. Forty-eight kilometres. Then one hundred and thirty-seven. Three hundred and eighty-six. The tight heat of Thomas’s hole gripping his cock. Ryan said quietly, “You liked him.”
Noah exhaled through his nose. “Apparently everyone has decided that.”
“Am I wrong?”
Noah looked at him. “No.”
Ryan nodded once. No triumph. No jealousy Noah could read. Just acceptance. “I did.” He looked towards the water. “Which was inconvenient.”
“Because he was leaving.”
“Yeah.”
Ryan was quiet for a moment. Then: “Does that make this weird?”
Noah turned back. “This?”
Ryan gestured vaguely between them - the towels, the bare skin, the wet shorts still clinging to both of them, the obvious residual hardness neither had fully lost. Noah considered it. Thomas leaving still hurt in a small, persistent way. That had not disappeared because Ryan was lying half a metre away, cock still half-hard against his thigh. But Ryan had not replaced Thomas. That wasn't what this felt like.
“No.”
Ryan watched him. “No?”
“No.”
Noah smiled slightly. “I asked you to come.”
Something eased in Ryan’s expression. “True.”
“And I wanted you to.”
“Also useful information.”
“Don’t get excited.”
“Too late.”
Noah laughed. The tension broke. But not entirely. Both of them were still visibly half-hard inside the damp shorts, and neither pretended otherwise.
A few minutes passed before Noah asked, “Your family still in Sydney?”
Ryan turned his head towards him. “Yeah. Parents and my sister.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yes, I do.”
Noah smiled. “You’ve never mentioned her.”
“You’ve known me for less than a week.”
“That hasn’t stopped you asking remarkably personal questions about my underwear.”
Ryan laughed, eyes dropping deliberately to the front of Noah’s blue shorts. “Fair.”
“How old is she?”
“Fifteen.”
“Do you get along?”
Ryan considered it. “Mostly. She’s currently enjoying having the bathroom to herself.”
“So she doesn’t miss you.”
“She claims she doesn’t.”
“That sounds convincing.”
“She messaged me yesterday because Dad was annoying her.”
“There it is.”
Ryan smiled. “Exactly.”
“Does she want to come visit?”
“Eventually. Mostly because I’m near the beach.”
Noah looked around them. “Reasonable.”
“She also wants to inspect the place and make sure I’m not living in what she calls a serial-killer flat.”
Noah laughed. “Are you?”
“Not yet.”
“Reassuring.”
Ryan stretched one arm behind his head, looking out towards the water. The movement made the black shorts shift, the soft outline of his cock becoming clearer. “Mum’s worse. She keeps asking whether I’ve made friends.”
Noah glanced over. “What do you tell her?”
Ryan thought about it for a moment. “That I have.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan was still watching the water as though he hadn’t said anything particularly significant. Something about the answer settled warmly inside Noah. He didn’t point it out. “Very sentimental,” he said instead.
Ryan turned towards him. “Fuck off.”
Noah laughed. Ryan nudged his foot against Noah’s, the contact lingering. “What about yours?”
“No siblings.”
“Only child?”
“Unfortunately.”
“That explains a lot.”
Noah narrowed his eyes. “What does that explain?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Convenient.”
“I’ll let you know.”
Noah smiled and looked back towards the water. “My mum mostly checks that I’m eating.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked at him. “That sounded defensive.”
“Because she asks approximately every twelve hours.”
“Maybe she knows something.”
“I am perfectly capable of feeding myself.”
“You’ve been living away from home for a week.”
“And somehow I remain alive.”
Ryan smiled. “Strong start.”
Noah shook his head. For a while the conversation drifted easily. Ryan told him about his sister threatening to visit once she could convince their parents, mostly because she wanted the beach and partly because she apparently needed to inspect his flat for evidence of serial killers. Noah admitted his mother treated a missed reply as probable evidence of death. Ryan’s father had already asked twice whether university was “worth the money,” despite classes having barely started.
“What do you even say to that?” Noah asked.
“I’ve attended lectures.”
“Compelling.”
“I thought so.”
“Has he been convinced?”
“Absolutely not.”
Noah laughed. The conversation moved on without either of them needing to push it anywhere. Eventually they returned to university itself, but not the basics they had already exchanged during their first conversations. Ryan asked what Noah had liked most so far.
“Probably the molecular stuff.”
“Very specific.”
“You knew that.”
“I knew you liked proteins.”
“I do.”
Ryan smiled. “You say that like you’re defending them.”
“I might be.”
“What did proteins ever do for you?”
Noah looked offended. “Everything.”
Ryan laughed. “No, seriously. Structure, function, enzymes, how changing one amino acid can completely change what something does. That part’s interesting.”
Ryan watched him for a second, eyes warm. “You really like this.”
Noah shrugged slightly. “Yeah.”
“No, I mean actually like it. Not just because you were good at biology at school.”
“Is that weird?”
“No.” Ryan’s expression softened. “It’s nice.”
Noah looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That sounded suspiciously sincere.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
Noah smiled. “What about you?”
Ryan thought. “Genetics, probably. And biochem when it stops being memorising pathways and starts explaining why anything happens.”
“So basically you dislike bad teaching.”
“That too.”
“And touching laboratory equipment before reading instructions.”
Ryan looked entirely unrepentant. “That remains a valid learning strategy.”
“It absolutely does not.”
“Our results were fine.”
“Despite you.”
“Because of me.”
Noah laughed. It was easy. That was becoming the part he noticed most. Not Ryan’s photographs. Not the staring across the laboratory. Not even the way Ryan’s wet swim shorts had clung to every inch of his hard cock when they came out of the water. This. Talking long enough that neither of them seemed particularly interested in checking the time - while both of them remained half-hard inside damp shorts, the sexual current never fully settling.
Eventually hunger drove them towards the kiosk. Ryan ordered chips. Noah ordered an iced coffee. Ryan glanced at it when they stepped away from the counter. “Good choice.”
Noah looked at him suspiciously. “That’s it?”
“What?”
“No judgement?”
“Why would I judge iced coffee?”
Noah smiled. “Thomas did.”
“The French guy?”
“Yeah.”
Ryan nodded solemnly. “Well, that’s because the French are wrong about many things.”
“I’m pretty sure he would consider that an act of war.”
Ryan shrugged. “He’s not here. I feel safe.”
Noah laughed. They carried Ryan’s chips and Noah’s coffee up onto the grass above the beach and found shade beneath a broad tree. Ryan offered the chips across. Noah took one. “Thank you.”
“Quality control.”
“They’re your chips.”
“Exactly. I need an independent assessment.”
Noah ate it. “Acceptable.”
Ryan looked offended. “Acceptable?”
“Strong supporting evidence.”
“Now you’re just being annoying.”
Noah smiled into his coffee. They sat looking out towards the water. After a while Ryan said, “Can I ask you something?”
Noah immediately distrusted the tone. “That usually means I’m going to regret saying yes.”
“You can refuse.”
“That’s even worse.”
Ryan smiled. “One question.”
“Fine.”
Ryan glanced briefly towards Noah’s blue swim shorts - lingering on the soft outline still visible - then back up. “So the Commando thing.”
Noah laughed, heat flooding him. “What about it?”
“It’s actually true?”
“Mostly.”
Ryan stared at him for a second, eyes dropping again to the front of the shorts. “Mostly?”
“You wanted confirmation. That’s your confirmation.”
“After four days of evidence.”
“You seem very invested.”
Ryan smiled, eyes still low. “Scientific curiosity.”
“Of course.”
Noah took another sip of his iced coffee. Ryan looked down at himself then, black swim shorts sitting low across his hips, the soft shape of his cock clear against the fabric, and Noah followed the movement without really meaning to. Ryan caught him. “What?”
Noah looked back at his face. “Nothing.”
Ryan’s mouth curved. “That looked like something.”
“I was just thinking you’re asking a lot of questions for someone dressed basically the same way.”
Ryan glanced down again, the black shorts stretched over his half-hard cock. “Fair.”
Noah smiled. “Exactly.”
Ryan stretched one leg out across the grass. The movement shifted the thin fabric across his hips, making the outline of his cock even clearer. Noah’s eyes dropped for a moment, lingering. Ryan noticed. This time neither of them commented. Noah took another drink, his own cock thickening again inside the blue shorts. After a few seconds Ryan said, “You enjoy making me wonder.”
“A little.”
“I knew it.”
Noah smiled into his coffee. “That wasn’t exactly difficult to work out.”
A minute passed. Noah looked over. “Since we’re interrogating each other…”
Ryan smiled. “We are?”
“Apparently.”
“All right.”
Noah nodded towards him. “Looking?”
Ryan’s smile widened. “What about it?”
“Why that?”
“I made the profile in about thirty seconds.”
“That explains the creativity.”
“You clicked.”
Noah looked towards the water. “Fair.”
Ryan picked at the corner of the chip packet. “What would you have called it?”
“No idea.”
“Commando?”
“That is a tag.”
“It’s basically your brand now.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan smiled. That one landed differently. Noah let it pass, though his cock gave a slow throb against the soft fabric. “So what were you actually looking for?”
Ryan’s expression became slightly more thoughtful. “Depends when.”
“When you made it?”
“Friends. Guys. Something to do.”
“Very specific.”
“Okay.” Ryan smiled faintly. “I wanted to meet people without having to make it into anything first.”
Noah understood that more than he expected. “And fun?”
“Definitely.”
“Seeing what happens?”
Ryan shrugged. “Still accurate.”
Noah took another drink. “Any disasters?”
Ryan laughed. “Oh, absolutely.”
“Now I need one.”
“You’re giving me dangerous amounts of power.”
“Just one.”
Ryan thought about it. “Last year there was this guy who messaged me for about two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
“Every day. Constantly.”
“And you didn’t meet?”
“We were trying.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It was.”
Ryan shifted onto one elbow, the movement making his shorts ride higher on one thigh, the soft outline of his cock shifting. “He lived maybe fifteen minutes away. Every time we planned something, something happened. Work. Family. Car trouble. Once he claimed his dog had diarrhoea.”
Noah laughed. “That could be real.”
“I gave him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Generous.”
“Eventually we finally organised it. His place. Friday night.”
Ryan paused. Noah waited. “I got there.”
“And?”
“He opened the door.”
“Good start.”
“He looked nothing like his pictures.”
Noah grinned. “How different?”
“Different person.”
Noah stared. “Actually?”
“Actually.”
Ryan was laughing now. “The photos were his cousin.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Apparently his cousin got more messages.”
Noah covered his mouth. “That’s incredible.”
“It gets worse.”
“Obviously.”
“He genuinely thought once I was already there I’d just… go with it.”
“What did you do?”
“Left.”
“Immediately?”
“Pretty much.”
Ryan thought for a second. “Although he did offer me a beer first.”
Noah laughed harder. “That almost makes it polite.”
“Very hospitable catfishing.”
“What did you say?”
“Something like, ‘I think you need to use your own face.’”
“Very diplomatic.”
“I was eighteen. I panicked.”
Noah’s laughter softened. “And then?”
“Blocked him before I got home.”
Ryan looked at him, eyes warm, still half-hard inside the black shorts. “Your turn.”
Noah froze. “That wasn’t part of the agreement.”
“It is now.”
“I asked you.”
“And I answered.”
Ryan held out a chip. “Payment.”
Noah took it. “That is bribery.”
“Yes.”
Noah ate the chip and looked towards the water. He already knew which story Ryan wanted. Or at least which one he could tell. “My first Grindr meet was last Saturday.”
Ryan’s expression shifted. “Thomas?”
“No.”
That got his attention. Ryan turned more fully towards him, the black shorts stretching across his hips. “No?”
Noah shook his head. “Thomas was later.”
Ryan waited. Noah picked at the condensation on his coffee cup. “I was here.”
“Here?”
“This beach.”
Ryan glanced towards the sand as though expecting the story to still be sitting somewhere nearby. “What happened?”
Noah smiled faintly, the memory making his cock throb. “I got a message.”
“Obviously.”
“Profile without a face. Guy said he could see me.”
Ryan’s eyebrows rose. “That would either be hot or terrifying.”
“It was both.”
“Which won?”
Noah considered. “Hot, apparently.”
Ryan laughed softly. “He told me what he was wearing. I found him maybe ten metres away.”
“And you met?”
Noah nodded. “He suggested the showers.”
Ryan went quiet. Not shocked exactly. Just listening more carefully now, eyes dark. “And you went?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you know anything about him?”
“No.”
“Name?”
“No.”
Ryan stared for a moment. “Fuck.”
Noah laughed, slightly embarrassed now that he was actually telling someone who mattered and aroused by the way Ryan was looking at him. “I know.”
“What happened?”
Noah looked at him. Ryan immediately added, “You don’t have to tell me.”
Noah appreciated that. He thought about how much to give him. “Not everything.”
“Fair.”
Noah looked back towards the water. “I went down on him.”
Ryan was silent for half a second. Then: “That was your first time with a guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
Ryan blinked. “And then you met Thomas afterwards?”
“For coffee.”
Ryan stared. Noah smiled. “Thomas had approximately the same reaction.”
“No shit.”
Ryan laughed in disbelief. “You really did all of that in one day?”
“Apparently.”
Ryan shook his head. “I thought I was impulsive.”
“That was probably the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done.”
“Did you regret it?”
The question was gentler. Noah thought about it properly - the cold concrete, the thick uncut cock filling his mouth, the hot flood he had swallowed, the way he had walked out still hard and gone to meet Thomas. “No.”
Ryan waited. “It was anonymous enough that I didn’t have to explain anything. He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him. I wanted to know whether I’d actually do something with a guy if I had the chance.”
“And?”
Noah looked at him, cock hard inside the blue shorts. “Apparently I would.”
Ryan smiled, eyes dropping to the obvious outline. “But Thomas was different.”
“Very.”
“How?”
Noah considered the question. “I knew his name.”
Ryan laughed. “High standards.”
“That helped.”
“I imagine.”
“No. I mean…” Noah looked down at the cup. “We talked. A lot. He knew I didn’t really know what I was doing. Not sexually. Just generally.”
Ryan nodded. “And he was good about that?”
“Yeah.” Noah smiled faintly, the memory of fucking Thomas - the tight heat, the way Thomas had come while Noah was inside him, the cum on his face - making his cock throb. “He was good at making not knowing seem normal.”
Ryan was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Sounds like you needed that.”
Noah looked at him. “Probably.”
There was no teasing in Ryan’s expression. Noah found himself wondering whether he would have told Ryan any of this four days ago. Probably not.
They stayed under the tree after Ryan finished the chips. The beach had begun changing around them, morning families gradually replaced by older groups and students arriving with speakers and bags. Noah stretched his legs. Ryan looked over, eyes lingering on the soft blue shorts and the hard outline still visible.
“How long had you known you liked guys before last weekend?”
Noah thought. “Knew?”
“Yeah.”
“Not long.”
“You’d never really considered it?”
“I’d considered it plenty.”
“That’s different.”
Noah smiled. “Exactly.”
Ryan waited. Noah looked towards the water. “I noticed guys for maybe a year. Gym mostly. Porn made it harder to pretend it was nothing.”
Ryan nodded as if that made perfect sense. “But I had a girlfriend.”
“Serious?”
“Most of my last year at school.”
“You liked her?”
“Yeah.” That answer came easily. “I really did.”
“What happened?”
“Different plans. University. Distance. Neither of us really wanted to spend the next few years trying to keep something alive because we thought we were supposed to.”
Ryan nodded. “So guys were newer.”
“Yeah.”
Noah looked at him. “What about you?”
Ryan scratched idly at the sand beside the towel. “Earlier.”
“How much earlier?”
“Probably fifteen when I properly stopped pretending I wasn’t checking guys out.”
Noah smiled. “Very precise.”
“I’m a scientist.”
“Debatable.”
Ryan nudged his leg, the contact lingering against bare skin. “There was a guy at school.”
“The fake-cousin guy?”
“No.” Ryan laughed. “Different disaster.”
“So many stories.”
“I’ve lived.”
“You’re nineteen.”
“Exactly.”
Noah smiled. “Did you date him?”
“Sort of.”
“That sounds healthy already.”
“It wasn’t terrible.”
Ryan looked towards the water. “We were friends first. Then occasionally more than friends. Then decided we should date because apparently that was the logical next step.”
“And?”
“We were much better at the first two things.”
Noah laughed. Ryan smiled. “We lasted maybe two months officially. Then stopped calling it anything and got along better again.”
“You still talk?”
“Sometimes.”
There was something quietly affectionate in the answer. No bitterness. No dramatic ex. Noah liked that. “And girls?”
“Yeah.”
Noah looked over. Ryan noticed. “Surprised?”
“No.” A beat. “Actually, no.”
Ryan smiled. “Same problem?”
“What?”
“Not knowing what box you’re meant to pick.”
Noah considered it. “Maybe.”
Ryan shrugged. “I stopped caring much.”
“Useful.”
“Eventually.”
Noah looked at him. Ryan smiled faintly. “Knowing what you like doesn’t automatically mean knowing what to do with it.”
That sat with Noah for a moment. Thomas had said something similar without saying the same thing. Liam had made the whole thing seem almost absurdly simple. And now Ryan, lying beside him with sand stuck to one arm and sunscreen still shining faintly across his shoulders, cock still half-hard inside the black shorts, was offering another version. Not certainty. Just experience.
Noah said, “Does knowing I’m that new to this make things weird?”
Ryan turned towards him. “No.”
The answer came immediately. Noah smiled. “That’s it?”
“What else should I say?”
“Apparently nothing.”
Ryan laughed. Then his expression became more serious. “I’m not going to treat you like you’ll break.”
“I’d hope not.”
“But if something happens between us and you don’t want something, tell me.”
Noah held his gaze, cock throbbing at the implication of something. “I will.”
“Good.”
“And same.”
Ryan’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Noah shrugged. “You’re allowed boundaries too.”
Something changed in Ryan’s expression. Small. But real. “Yeah,” he said. “Obviously.”
For a moment neither looked away. The air between them felt thick. Then Ryan smiled. “So.”
Noah groaned. “What now?”
“You went to a public shower with a complete stranger on your first day using Grindr properly.”
“I knew telling you was a mistake.”
“That is objectively insane.”
“And you drove to somebody’s house who was using his cousin’s photos.”
Ryan considered that. “Okay. We’ve both made questionable decisions.”
“Exactly.”
“Mine involved less public nudity.”
“You don’t know that.”
Ryan stared. Noah let the implication sit there for a second - the memory of the stranger’s cock in his mouth, the possibility that Ryan was picturing it - then smiled. Ryan laughed. “You’re fucking awful.”
Noah leaned back onto his hands, the movement making the blue shorts stretch tighter across his hard cock. “You started it.”
They stayed longer than Noah expected. That became obvious when the angle of the sun changed and the busiest part of the beach began to empty. They swam again. Walked along the water. Argued about whether Ryan had cheated during their race. He had. Probably. Noah never established how. Every time their bodies brushed in the water, both of them were hard, the wet shorts clinging, the mutual awareness never fading.
When they returned to the towels, Ryan dropped down beside him and said, “This is pretty good.”
Noah looked over. “What?”
“This.” Ryan gestured vaguely between the beach, the towels and them — bare skin, damp shorts, the residual hardness neither had lost. Noah smiled. “Very descriptive.”
“I mean it.”
The teasing had gone out of Ryan’s voice. Noah looked towards the water. Thomas had occupied his thoughts differently. Thomas had always carried an ending with him, even before Noah knew the exact date. Ryan didn’t feel like that. Ryan was Tuesday. Station twelve. Somebody who would be sitting somewhere on campus tomorrow. Someone who knew about the stranger in the shower now. Someone Noah knew had a fifteen-year-old sister who wanted to inspect his flat for serial killers. Someone whose wet shorts had clung to every thick inch of him all afternoon.
“Yeah,” Noah said. He looked back at him. “It is.”
Ryan smiled. Then his eyes dropped deliberately towards Noah’s blue shorts and the clear outline of his hard cock. “Even without confirmation.”
Noah laughed, heat flooding him. “You had to ruin it.”
“I waited almost thirty seconds.”
“Personal growth.”
“I’m trying.”
Noah shook his head. But he was still smiling and still hard.
They finally packed up in the late afternoon. Ryan pulled his T-shirt back on. Noah found himself vaguely disappointed; the silver chain disappeared under the fabric, and the clear outline of Ryan’s cock was partially hidden again. Ryan noticed. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You looked offended.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Sure.”
Noah shoved his towel into his bag, the blue shorts still damp and clinging. They walked towards the bus stops together. Their routes separated near the main road. Ryan stopped. “So.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Today.”
Noah waited. Ryan shifted the strap of his bag. “Was good.”
Noah smiled. “Very articulate.”
“I’m being sincere.”
“That’s concerning.”
Ryan laughed. Then the teasing eased. “I mean it.”
Noah looked at him. “Yeah.” He did not need to think about the answer. “It was.”
A bus approached in the distance. Ryan nodded towards it. “Yours?”
Noah checked the number. “Yeah.”
“See you Tuesday?”
“Probably before then.”
Ryan smiled. “Planning to stalk me around campus?”
“You’re the one who keeps appearing at zero metres.”
“Fair.”
The bus pulled closer. Neither moved immediately. For one strange second Noah wondered whether Ryan might kiss him - they were close enough, both still half-hard, the afternoon’s tension thick between them. Ryan seemed to wonder something too; his eyes dropped to Noah’s mouth, then to the front of the blue shorts. Then the moment passed. Not awkwardly. Just unfinished. Ryan stepped back. “Later, Commando.”
Noah shook his head, cock still hard inside the soft shorts. “You were doing so well.”
Ryan grinned. Noah got on the bus. He found a window seat. Ryan was already walking away when the bus pulled out. Noah watched him for a few seconds, the black shorts still sitting low on his hips. Then looked down at his phone. He had spent almost five hours with Ryan. Neither of them had opened Grindr once. Noah smiled and put the phone away, the residual hardness fading slowly as the bus carried him home.
Monday morning hurt. Liam had warned him. Noah resented this primarily because Liam was correct. The walk to the bus stop was manageable. The stairs outside the science building were not. Callum found him halfway up them. He slowed. “What happened to you?”
Noah continued climbing. “Marcus.”
Callum nodded immediately. “Gym?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You voluntarily keep doing this.”
“I’m beginning to question the definition of voluntarily.”
Callum fell into step beside him. “Good weekend otherwise?”
“Yeah.”
They reached the top. Noah resisted the urge to celebrate. Callum looked at him. “What did you do?”
“Beach yesterday.”
“Again?”
“I live near one now.”
“Right. Sorry. Still adjusting to coastal people.”
Noah smiled. They started towards the lecture theatre. Callum asked, “By yourself?”
The question was casual. Noah could easily have said no and left it there. Instead: “With Ryan.”
Callum slowed slightly. Noah kept walking. After a second Callum caught up. “Ryan.”
“Yes.”
“Your lab partner.”
“That is generally how names work.”
Callum looked ahead. “The one who calls you Commando.”
Noah closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. That Ryan.”
Callum made a small sound. Not quite oh. Close. Noah pointed at him. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You nearly did.”
“I was processing.”
“That’s worse.”
Callum smiled. They entered the lecture theatre and found two seats near the middle. Noah sat. His legs thanked him. The soft shorts he wore under his jeans brushed against his bare cock as he settled. Callum unpacked his notebook. Then, without looking over, asked, “Was it a date?”
Noah stared at him. “I don’t know.”
Callum nodded. “That seems to be going around.”
“What does?”
“You not knowing what things are.”
Noah considered that. Thomas would probably have approved. “We went to the beach.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
Callum finally looked at him. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah.”
“Then maybe start there.”
Noah raised an eyebrow. “You’re being suspiciously sensible again.”
“I had a good weekend.”
“What did you do?”
Callum opened his notebook. “Birdwatching.”
Noah stared. Callum looked back. “Don’t.”
Noah laughed loudly enough that the student in front of them turned.
The lecture began. For the first twenty minutes Noah actually concentrated. That became easier once the topic moved away from introductory material and into proteins involved in membrane transport. The lecturer was the same person coordinating Tuesday’s biochemistry practical, and unlike some of the people Noah had listened to during his first week, she seemed genuinely interested in what she was explaining.
Callum was taking notes beside him. Noah was halfway through copying a diagram when movement several rows ahead caught his attention. Dark hair. Silver chain. Ryan. He was sitting near the aisle with his laptop open, one hand resting against his chin while he looked towards the screen at the front. Noah smiled before he could stop himself. Yesterday Ryan had been barefoot beside him on the beach, wet shorts clinging to his hard cock, arguing about whether offering Noah one of Ryan’s chips counted as quality control. Today he was taking notes about membrane proteins. Apparently those versions of him could coexist - and the memory of Ryan’s body, the sunscreen on his lower back, the way their cocks had brushed when Ryan pulled him up, made Noah’s own cock thicken inside the soft shorts under his jeans.
As though sensing the attention, Ryan looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met. Ryan’s mouth curved slightly. Then he turned back towards the lecturer. Callum glanced sideways. Noah kept writing. “What?” he whispered.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I actually wasn’t.”
“That’s new.”
Callum shook his head and returned to his notes. At the front, the lecturer changed slides. “Tomorrow’s practical will build on some of what we’re covering today,” she said. “You’ll be looking at enzyme activity under different conditions, so make sure you’ve read the protocol before arriving.”
Several people around the room immediately began opening the learning site. Callum did too. Noah looked at him. “You haven’t read it.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“Before tomorrow.”
“That is technically still possible.”
“Exactly.”
The lecturer continued. “Your station allocations remain the same as last week. So unless there’s a problem, you’ll be working with the same partner.”
Noah’s phone vibrated against his thigh. He already had a reasonable idea who it was. Ryan.
Station twelve survives.
Noah looked several rows ahead. Ryan was still facing forward.
Disappointed?
The answer came almost immediately.
Devastated.
Then:
I was hoping for someone less distracting.
Noah smiled, cock throbbing against the soft fabric.
You seemed to cope last week.
Debatable.
Noah glanced towards him again. Ryan turned just enough to look back. Noah raised his eyebrows. Ryan smiled and faced forward. Callum noticed this one. Obviously. “You know he is physically in the room, right?”
Noah locked his phone. “I’m aware.”
“You could talk to him.”
“We’re in a lecture.”
“You were messaging him.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
Noah considered it. “I don’t know.”
Callum nodded solemnly. “Strong argument.”
Noah ignored him. His phone vibrated again.
Did you tell Callum?
Noah paused. He looked at Callum, who was once again concentrating on the slide.
Tell him what?
Yesterday.
Noah smiled.
That we went to the beach.
There was a short pause.
And?
And we went to the beach.
Ryan replied:
Very detailed.
He didn’t ask for a transcript.
Shame.
Noah stared at that, heat flooding him.
What would be in the transcript?
The typing indicator appeared. Stopped. Then:
Mostly you complaining about your legs.
Noah laughed under his breath.
Fuck you.
There was also some staring.
Noah felt warmth rise slightly into his face — and lower, into his cock.
From you.
Sure.
Then:
See you tomorrow, Commando.
Noah looked several rows ahead. Ryan had put his phone down. Noah typed anyway.
You’re literally twenty metres away.
Ryan’s shoulders moved slightly. Laughing. A moment later:
Still counts.
Noah locked the phone. Callum looked over. “There’s the face again.”
Noah sighed. “Apparently I have a face now.”
“You do.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Callum smiled and turned back to the lecturer. Noah did the same. Tomorrow meant station twelve again. Lab coats. Pipettes. Ryan standing beside him instead of stretched out on a towel under the sun, wet shorts clinging to his hard cock. After yesterday, Noah suspected the practical might feel slightly different. Not awkward. Just different - charged with everything they had not done on the beach, everything they had almost done, everything still waiting between them.
He looked several rows ahead once more. Ryan was taking notes. For once, he appeared almost entirely innocent. Noah knew better. His cock was half-hard inside the soft shorts under his jeans, and the memory of Ryan’s hands on his back, the sunscreen, the wet fabric, the almost-kiss at the bus stop, made the residual tension sit thick and unresolved as the lecture continued.
