It was difficult keeping my hands off Noah on the Uber ride home. We sat in the back seat, tucked closed to the door and riding in the shadow, only being seen whenever a streetlight would flash through the car. It was enough of a shield to let me put my hand on Noah’s thigh, climbing up and finding a hardening surprise between his legs. I rubbed him through his shorts, making sure that if the driver turned around or looked in the rearview, all he’d see was two guys sitting shoulder to shoulder together, possibly holding hands.

He wouldn’t be able to see the way my grip closed around Noah’s cock, feeling it throb underneath his clothes. He dropped his head back and shut his eyes, a pleasant grin crossing his face. I’d never done this before. And sure, we were both really drunk, but public play was never on my to-do list.

Until now.

That seemed to be the theme with Noah. Shit I never thought I’d do was now on the agenda. Join a queer book club? Check. Get in a fistfight with someone? Check. Give someone a hand job in the back of a car? Check.

Noah looked to the driver. He was focused on the road, the highway extra busy at this time of night. Music was playing, and his eyes were ahead. Noah took this chance to lower the waistband of his shorts just enough so that he could pull out the head of his glistening cock. I ran my thumb across, spreading the precome that already dripped from the tip. He dropped his head back against the headrest, and I could have sworn I heard a tiny moan escape from his lips.

Fuck. All I want to do is lean over and suck him off.

That would likely grab the driver’s attention, and I certainly didn’t want our Uber rating to go down because of an on-the-go fellatio violation.

I contained myself, happy with just touching him skin to skin. Holding him in my hands. Feeling his velvet hot heat soak through my palm, enjoying the way he twitched in my grip. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “You’ve got me rock fucking hard.”

I gave him a playful squeeze. “I know,” I responded, my cock pulsing against my thigh just as hard as Noah’s. If it were me behind the wheel, we would have already had to pull over and take care of this before I ended up driving us off the road.

“What are you going to do to me when we get to your place?” Noah asked, voice still low so that it couldn’t be heard over the music.