The crisp fall air carried the scent of dried leaves and distant chimney smoke as Noah and Adam moved easily down the sidewalk. The world felt open today, light and effortless in the way that only happened when Noah was at Adam’s side. The gentle rhythm of their steps matched.
Noah laughed at something small, and the sound came easily, warm and unguarded. Adam turned toward him, his expression soft. He liked watching Noah like this, his body loose, his presence radiant, drawing glances without even trying.
Then they turned a corner. And Noah stopped breathing.
His father stood outside a storefront, glancing through the window, his posture the same as it had always been—rigid, practical, always slightly removed. The years had done little to change him. A touch more gray at his temples. A heavier line between his brows. But still him.
And for a moment, there was a flicker of something. Recognition. A small shift in his features as his gaze landed on Noah.
And then nothing. Not a flinch. Not even the barest tightening of his mouth. Just a blank space. Noah was invisible. His father adjusted his coat, turned, and stepped inside the store without a backward glance.
The world faded beneath the roaring silence in Noah’s ears. His breath locked in his chest, his fingers curled into fists at his sides. He could have sworn he felt himself fracture, something old splitting apart.
Adam saw it immediately. He didn’t speak, just moved, one hand settling firmly against the small of Noah’s back, guiding him away with quiet certainty. Noah followed without thinking, his body moving before his mind caught up. He barely registered the blocks passing, the shifting scenery. The world felt untethered, weightless in the worst way.
When they got home, Adam shut the door behind them, but Noah didn’t stop moving. He paced, restless, agitated, something thick and unspoken clawing at his ribs.
“He looked right at me,” Noah said suddenly. The words felt distant, like they belonged to someone else. “Right at me.”
Adam leaned against the counter, watching him, waiting. Noah let out a sharp breath, hands flexing.
“And it was like I wasn’t even there.”
His voice cracked, just slightly. He hated that it did.
“I don’t exist to him.”
Silence.
“I could be anyone.”
Silence.
“I could disappear, and it wouldn’t even matter.”
His hands shook. Not from anger, not exactly. From something heavier. Something deeper. His breath came faster, shallower. His skin prickled like he was coming apart at the seams, like if he stopped moving, he might fall straight through the floor.
“Noah.” Adam’s voice was calm. Firm. But Noah didn’t hear it. He was somewhere else, lost in the words rattling through his head.
Adam took a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Noah.”
Nothing.
Adam exhaled, then reached out, grabbing Noah’s wrist, pulling him in. A small sound escaped Noah’s throat, startled, but Adam didn’t let go. He simply held him, steady and immovable.
“You need to come back,” Adam said softly.
Noah’s chest rose and fell too fast. “I—” His voice broke. “I can’t—”
“I know.” Adam pressed a firm palm against Noah’s back, guiding him forward. “I’m going to help you.”
Adam led him toward the couch, moving with quiet purpose. There was no force, no roughness, just certainty. When he reached the edge, he pulled Noah down across his lap.
That was when Noah fought. A sharp inhale, a weak struggle, a frantic, “No, I don’t—"
Adam caught his chin, tilting his face just enough. “Yes,” he said, unshaken. “You do.”
Noah stilled, his breath shaky, his limbs tense beneath Adam’s hold. But he didn’t fight again.
“Pants off.”
Noah’s breath hitched. Adam waited. A tremor ran through Noah’s fingers, but he obeyed. His movements were stiff, his breaths shallow as he unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down his legs. The denim pooled around his ankles, leaving him in nothing but his black thong, the thin band cutting high against his hipbones, his thighs pale, smooth, bare.
Adam’s gaze dragged over him, slow, assessing. Then, quickly he pulled Noah forward, his body folding across Adam’s lap. Adam guided him into place, Noah’s hips resting over his thighs, his chest pressed against the couch. He ran a hand down Noah’s back, slow, grounding.
“Breathe.”
Adam smoothed a hand over the small of Noah’s back, tracing the curve of his spine. The tension in his body was a live wire, coiled and thrumming. Too much. Too sharp. Adam lifted his hand and brought it down.
The first slap landed firm, crisp. A sharp crack against bare skin. Noah jolted, his thighs tensing, breath punching out of him. Adam didn’t pause. He struck again, the sound snapping through the room, reverberating between them.
Noah’s body reacted instinctively, his hips shifting, his back curving into the motion. Another. And another. Each one measured, deliberate. The sting blooming, warming, anchoring.
Noah’s breath grew unsteady. His fingers curled into the cushions. The sharpness of his spiraling thoughts dulled, lost beneath the rising heat in his skin, the steady rhythm of impact, the unrelenting certainty of Adam’s hand.
And finally something changed. A sharp exhale. Noah’s muscles softened, his weight sinking into Adam’s lap.
There you are.
Adam started again, keeping the rhythm, slower now, letting Noah settle, letting him feel it.
And Noah was feeling it, fully, wholly, undeniably here. His fingers, once curled into fists, had relaxed. His body wasn’t fighting. He was breathing. Really breathing.
Adam ran a palm over the curve of his hip, tracing over warmed skin. He could still feel the aftershocks of tension in Noah’s limbs, but the spiral had broken.
“Good,” he murmured. His hand traced the heated skin, soothing the rawness he’d left behind. “Now you’re ready.”
Noah turned his head slightly, dazed, his cheek pressed to the couch.
“For what?” he asked, voice thick, breathless. Adam’s fingers traced up his spine, curling lightly at his nape.
“I’ll be right back.”
Noah turned. His breath caught.
The collar. Everything else fell away.
Adam held it out, silent. He didn’t explain. Didn’t push. Just offered.
Noah stared at it. His pulse pounded, his fingers twitching at his sides. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what this meant, why Adam had chosen now.
“What is this?” he asked, voice unsteady.
Adam’s gaze was unwavering. “Something to remind you.”
Noah swallowed. His throat was dry. He didn’t understand, but he did. Somewhere deep, in a place that words couldn’t reach, he understood. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped forward.
His fingers brushed over the smooth band, tracing the cool metal, feeling its weight. He turned it over, studying the hidden loop at the back. His brows furrowed.
“What’s this for?”
Adam didn’t answer. Noah inhaled, the air thick and heavy. He lifted the collar to his throat, feeling the press of steel against his skin. It was grounding. Solid. Real. A moment of hesitation. Then—
Click.
Adam exhaled. His cock ballooned in his briefs so fast he was a bit dizzy for a second. Something in him unraveled, something long held in restraint finally settling into place. Noah saw it, the darkening of Adam’s gaze, the slow, measured breath, the way his hands flexed at his sides. Noah’s own pulse pounded. His fingers lifted to the collar, testing its weight, feeling the way it rested perfectly against his skin.
It fit. As if it had always been there. As if it had been waiting for this moment.
The silence between them is charged, vibrating with something just beneath the surface.
Noah breathes in slowly, feeling the collar settle against his skin, the cool metal molding to the heat of his body. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes locked on Adam’s. Noah’s voice is quiet.
“What about you?”
Adam’s brow lifts slightly, unreadable.
“What do you mean?”
Noah swallows, brushing his fingers along the collar at his throat.
“I have this,” he says softly. His fingers tighten. “But what about you?”
Adam watches him carefully, his breath measured. Then, without answering, he hooks his thumbs into his waistband and pushes his briefs down. Noah inhales sharply.
The matching band sits at the base of Adam’s cock, snug, unyielding. The smooth steel contrasts with the flushed heat of his shaft, thick and heavy, pulsing with restrained need. Noah stares. His breath catches, his mouth parts slightly, his fingers twitch at his sides. He wants to touch it. He needs to. Adam exhales.
“You can touch it.”
Noah doesn’t hesitate this time. His fingers press against the band, feeling the solid weight of it wrapped around Adam’s beautiful penis, a silent echo of his own collar. The contrast is startling, the cool metal against the heat of Adam’s body, the steady pulse beneath his fingertips.
Adam watches him, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate control. Noah’s fingers drift, tracing along the metal, then lower, following the shape of Adam’s cock, feeling the warmth, the thick, steady presence of him. His stomach flips, a flush crawling up his neck. Then, softly, Adam speaks.
“You already know.”
Noah looks up at him, his breath uneven. Adam’s voice is low, certain.
“I wear this ring to bind me to you.” His cock twitches under Noah’s touch, thickening even more. “It’s yours.”
Noah’s pulse hammers in his throat. His fingers tighten slightly, testing the weight of it, feeling the heartbeat of the man in front of him. Adam steps forward, his cock pressing against Noah’s stomach, the heat of him sinking in through the thin fabric of Noah’s thong. His breath is warm as he leans in, lips brushing against Noah’s ear.
“You’re mine, Noah.”
Noah shudders, his body responding instantly. Adam’s fingers trail down, grazing Noah’s waist, the bare curve of his hip. His lips hover at the shell of Noah’s ear, barely touching, but enough to send an electric pulse through him.
“And I’m yours,” Adam murmurs.
Noah swallows hard. His body is humming. The collar feels heavier now. So does the weight of Adam’s cock against him. Adam pulls back just enough to meet Noah’s gaze. His eyes are dark, steady, waiting. Noah exhales shakily. And then, Adam smirks. Just a little. Just enough.
“Now you’ll never forget.”
Noah’s breath is uneven. His fingers tighten around the collar at his throat, feeling the weight, feeling the shift inside him. Adam watches him, unreadable, so perfectly still. But his cock tells a different story. Thick, hard, heavy where it stands between them, the ring at its base gleaming in the dim light. His voice, when it comes, is low. Grounded. Unshakable.
"This is how you know I’m yours."
Noah just stares. He knows what those words mean. Knows the weight of them, the quiet, devastating honesty beneath them. Something breaks open in him. Something settles. His fingers slip from his own collar. He takes a step forward. Then another. And then slowly, deliberately, Noah sinks to his knees.
He leans in, slowly, carefully. His cheek brushes against the curve of the metal. Against Adam’s cock, where the ring sits snug. He nuzzles against it, breathing in the scent of him, the heat of him, the pulse of him. His lips part, his breath hot against the skin there.
Then, tilting his chin, he looks up. His eyes meet Adam’s.
“It’s beautiful.”
Adam’s lips part. His jaw tenses slightly. He exhales through his nose.
“Yeah?”
Noah nods, slow, certain. His fingers trail up Adam’s thigh, over the curve of his hip, skimming his lower stomach. Then back down. He breathes deep, pressing his forehead to Adam’s stomach, closing his eyes for a moment.
Then he looks up again.
“Now you look how you’re meant to look.”
Adam’s breath catches. Just for a second. His hand lifts, fingers threading through Noah’s hair, gripping, holding.
“Show me, pretty girl.”
Noah doesn’t break eye contact. Doesn’t hesitate. Still kneeling, still so close, he lets his lips part. Soft, wet, inviting. And then, slowly, achingly slowly, he takes Adam into his mouth.
Adam groans, deep and rough, his fingers tightening in Noah’s hair.
Noah keeps his eyes on him. Keeps watching as Adam’s cock disappears between his lips, inch by inch, stretching his mouth wide. Thicker, heavier, hotter.
Noah breathes through his nose, steady, controlled, taking it. The weight of it on his tongue, the taste of salt and skin, the slow, deliberate push as Adam slides deeper, until Noah’s lips brush against the ring.
And then he keeps going. All of it. Adam’s cock sinks down his throat, heavy, unyielding.
Noah’s nose presses against the cool metal, his jaw stretched to its limit, his throat full.
Adam curses, his chest rising and falling, stomach muscles tightening. His other hand grips Noah’s jaw, thumb stroking his cheek.
"Fuck, baby, just like that—"
Noah stays there. Holding it. Holding him. And then he pulses. A slow, rhythmic clenching, his throat muscles tightening around the thickest part of Adam’s cock, squeezing, milking. Adam bucks forward slightly, the movement instinctive, primal.
“Shit—”
His breath stutters. His grip in Noah’s hair tightens.
Noah hums around him, low and soft, the vibration making Adam’s thighs tense. He does it again, pulses, clenches, sucks. Masturbating Adam with his throat. No hands. Noah’s fingers curl against Adam’s thighs, his whole body bowed in submission, in worship.
Adam’s cock throbs, the ring pressing tight at the base, his pleasure growing thick and impossible to hold back. Noah swallows him down again, deep, wet, perfect. He wants this. Wants Adam to lose himself. Wants to feel it when he does.
Adam’s voice shakes, rough with pleasure.
“Jesus Christ, Noah—”
Adam can barely think.
Noah stays there, throat stretched, lips plush around the thick base of his cock, the metal ring pressing flush against his mouth. The heat of it, the wetness, the pressure. His tongue moves, lapping, sucking, shaping itself to Adam’s cock in perfect submission.
That fucking throat. Adam’s hips twitch, his breath coming in sharp, broken exhales. His hands cup Noah’s jaw, fingers spreading against his cheeks, feeling the stretch, the way his cock pulses deep inside.
Noah moans around him, low, needy, vibrating. His nails dig into Adam’s thighs, his body tight with hunger, with devotion. The sound shoots through Adam like a live wire. His fingers tangle in Noah’s hair, gripping, holding him still.
"Fucking perfect, baby. Just like that."
Noah’s eyes flick up, glazed, dazed, wide. And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he pulls back.
Adam grits his teeth, fighting the urge to thrust. To take. Noah’s lips drag up his length, sucking as he goes, slow and obscene, his tongue swirling, teasing the head. And then he sinks back down. Deep. Swallowing. Taking. The motion is steady, controlled.
Adam’s hands slide to the back of Noah’s head, not pushing, just holding. Grounding himself. The heat builds, thickens, tightens. Adam’s cock aches, the ring at the base holding him in, stretching his pleasure unbearably taut.
Noah stays still, lips sealed around the thick heat of Adam’s cock, the weight of him resting heavy against his tongue. His breath is slow, steady, his throat relaxed, accepting, as Adam shudders above him, muscles going taut, his fingers tightening against the back of Noah’s head.
Then, with a deep, ragged exhale, Adam releases.
Noah’s throat works instinctively, taking everything, swallowing down every pulse of Adam’s seed as it spills inside his mouth, filling him completely.
Slowly, Noah tilts his head back, his lips parting just slightly. His tongue moves, shifting the last of Adam’s sperm inside his mouth, letting the taste settle. His eyes flick up, locking onto Adam’s, dark and hazy with something unspoken.
Adam brushes his thumb over Noah’s lower lip, smearing a trace of slickness, watching the way Noah’s lips stay parted, wet, open.
“Swallow,” Adam says, quiet, firm.
Noah does.
His throat works, slow and deliberate, taking the last of Adam down. A shiver rolls through him as he closes his mouth again, his tongue flicking out just briefly to catch anything left behind.
Adam’s grip tightens just slightly on the collar.
“Good,” Adam murmurs, voice rough. “That’s my good girl.”
Adam smirks, his thumb pressing against Noah’s bottom lip, dragging it down slightly.
“Good girls drink sperm,” Adam murmurs.
Noah shudders, his pupils blown wide, his fingers curling slightly against Adam’s thighs. He holds eye contact as he opens his mouth just slightly, showing Adam that there’s nothing left. That he’s taken it all. That he’s kept his place, received what was given, swallowed it down.
Adam groans, his cock twitching against Noah’s tongue. “Say it.”
Noah tries even with his mouth full of penis. “Goo- grrs -ink -ferm.”
“What was that, baby? You sound so stupid.”
Adam pulls his cock out of Noah’s mouth.
“Is that better?”
“Good girls drink-“
Adam shoves his cock deeper down Noah’s throat. Noah closes his lips again and presses forward, nuzzling into the heat of Adam’s groin, breathing him in, his nose brushing against the cool band of metal still wrapped snugly at the base.
Adam exhales, running a hand through Noah’s hair, feeling the weight of the collar beneath his fingers.
He pulls Noah up, guiding him to his feet, his hands steady on Noah’s waist.
"Now you look how you're meant to look,” Adam murmurs, brushing his thumb over the hollow of Noah’s throat where the collar sits.
Noah sways slightly in place, his lips parted, his expression somewhere between dazed and deeply content.
Adam’s hands slide lower, gripping Noah’s hips.
“Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Adam lies on his back, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other resting heavy on Noah’s bare hip. Noah is curled against him, his body loose, softened, his cheek pressed to Adam’s chest where the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothes him. The collar sits snug around Noah’s neck, warm now, molded to him, a quiet presence.
Adam’s fingers trace slow, idle circles over Noah’s hip bone. His voice is low, steady. “It’s important that you drink sperm.”
Noah shivers. He doesn’t respond immediately, just exhales slowly against Adam’s skin, his breath warm, damp. His fingers twitch where they rest against Adam’s abdomen.
“You know that, don’t you?” Adam presses.
Noah nods, just a small, instinctual movement. He swallows, then whispers, “Yes.”
Adam hums, pleased. His hand drifts up Noah’s back, fingers slipping beneath the edge of the collar, testing the way it sits against his skin. “Tell me why.”
Noah hesitates, then murmurs, “Because it’s yours.”
Adam’s fingers tighten, just slightly. “Good. What else?”
Noah shifts, his thighs pressing together. His voice is breathier this time. “Because it belongs inside me.”
Adam exhales, his cock stirring slightly against his thigh. “That’s right.” He tilts his head down, his lips brushing the top of Noah’s head. “Say it.”
Noah bites his lip, breath shaky. “I drink sperm because it belongs inside me.”
Adam drags his fingers down Noah’s spine, over the curve of his ass. “And?”
Noah closes his eyes. “Because it makes me yours.”
Adam’s cock thickens, pulses slightly. His fingers slip lower, teasing the space between Noah’s cheeks, feeling the way his body responds. “And?” His voice is rough now, deeper.
Noah inhales sharply. “Because I need it.”
Adam smirks. “You need what?”
Noah squirms, pressing closer. “I need your sperm.”
Adam groans, rolling slightly to his side, shifting Noah onto his back, leaning over him. His hand cups Noah’s jaw, his thumb brushing over his lips. “That’s right,” he murmurs, pleased. “Good girls drink sperm.”
Noah’s breath catches. He parts his lips slightly, his tongue flicking out to wet them. “Good girls drink sperm.”
Adam watches him, heat flaring in his chest. “And you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”
Noah nods, eyes dark, wide. “Yes.”
Adam’s thumb presses lightly against Noah’s bottom lip, then slides lower, trailing along the column of his throat where the collar sits snug. He tilts Noah’s chin up, making him hold his gaze. “Then you’ll keep drinking it. Every drop.”
Noah swallows, nodding again. “Every drop.”
Adam smirks. “That’s my girl.”
Adam’s hand moves slowly, absently, along the bare stretch of Noah’s back, fingertips tracing idle patterns in the warmth of his skin. They are both softened now, drowsy in the low flickering glow of the fire. The air is thick with the scent of them—of oil, of heat, of spent pleasure.
Noah shifts, nuzzling closer, his breath warm against Adam’s chest. His collar is snug, resting against the hollow of his throat. He touches it absently, fingers tracing over the cool metal, as if still adjusting to its presence. The weight of it. The meaning of it.
Adam watches, his free hand drifting lower, slipping over Noah’s waist, down to the swell of his ass, cupping him with quiet possession. He presses his lips to the top of Noah’s head, murmuring into the softness of his hair.
“You like wearing it, Noah?”
Noah’s fingers tighten slightly around the collar. He swallows, shifts against Adam’s body, as if seeking something, some confirmation of himself in the solidity of Adam’s arms. His voice is soft, but sure.
“Yes.”
Adam hums, pleased. His grip tightens just slightly at Noah’s hip.
“And the ring?”
Noah hesitates—just a moment, just a breath—then pulls back slightly, just enough to look at Adam. His eyes flicker downward, toward the place where the metal band encircles the thick base of Adam’s cock. His lips part, tongue flicking out briefly to wet them.
“I love it.”
Adam exhales, heat curling in his gut. He lifts Noah’s chin, guiding him gently until their eyes meet.
“And you understand why I wear it?”
Noah nods, slow, measured. His voice is a whisper, intimate in the quiet.
“So I never forget that you’re mine.”
Adam brushes his thumb over Noah’s lips, watching as they part under his touch. His cock stirs slightly, not with urgency, but with something deeper. A quiet, thrumming satisfaction.
“And you know what it means when you wear this?” His fingers trail lightly along the collar, feeling the way Noah’s pulse beats beneath it.
Noah doesn’t hesitate this time. His fingers curl against Adam’s chest, gripping lightly, anchoring himself in the moment.
“It means I belong to you.”
Adam smiles, slow and warm, tilting Noah’s chin up further. “That’s right.”
Noah breathes in deep, lets it settle in him, through him. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again, searching Adam’s face.
“And you belong to me.”
Adam presses their foreheads together, his voice low, steady. “Always.”
Noah exhales, something loosening inside of him. His body melts fully into Adam’s embrace, their limbs tangled, breath syncing, something wordless passing between them.
Adam kisses his temple, lingers there. “Are you happy?”
Noah’s eyes flutter closed again. He shifts against Adam, pressing closer, like he could tuck himself even deeper into him.
“Yes.”
Adam exhales, long and slow, as he pulls Noah in tight. Holds him there. Safe. Grounded.
His hand drifts to Noah’s collar, his fingers hooking just lightly underneath.
“Good.” His voice is a low murmur, the last thing Noah hears before sleep takes him. “Sleep, baby girl.”
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