It was the sounds he made that always left Deniz so exposed.

It was the one thing Roman knew he would never doubt about him, and it filled Roman with a sense of power he rarely otherwise felt. Most times he was trying desperately to read Deniz; to get behind the insouciant expression and expose the nerve endings. What is he feeling? What is he thinking? It tickled Roman to realise that he trusted Deniz the most when he was most incoherent; when the sounds were so unconscious and so uninhibited that interpretation was unnecessary.

The range of noises Deniz produced were vast, and yet Roman had them catalogued in his mind, like the most intricately graded colour scheme. Some sounds were specific to certain actions: the purring as Roman nuzzled behind his ear and down his neck, the growl as he reached his nipple. The helpless half-sigh as his hand slid down Deniz’s back, over his buttocks, cupping and hoisting them gently upwards.

Then there was the keening, inward breath whenever Roman bent towards Deniz’s cock and teased the tip with his tongue, and the rumble of relief made solely of the consonants n, h, and g, when Roman finally clamped down on him with his whole mouth.

Terse breaths followed Roman’s rhythmic progress up, and around his cock. Deniz worked to hold back his climax with what could have passed for a hum of concentration except that it came from vibrations through his whole body.

Later, Roman loves the cry of wanton, fitful pleasure when he enters Deniz, a cry that breaks in the middle so it’s almost a sob.

And sometimes, when it’s really working, when Roman couldn’t be filling Deniz more fully, the howl that somehow echoes out of Deniz shatters his heart. It’s more than a moan, it’s wild and guttural; like being winded, a desperate gasp for air when there is none. It is a sound that has no awareness; it is only for Roman because Deniz doesn’t know he is making it, if it even reaches his ears.  Roman has often held out on his own orgasm, waiting for Deniz’s unwitting capitulation, knowing it will push him over the edge himself, feeling the command and certainty flood him.

It is at these times that Roman believes in himself fully. The sounds Deniz makes could be universally understood but Roman trusts, however fleetingly, as he hears them, that no one else could elicit them from Deniz in this way. It is a simple knowledge that he loves Deniz in such detail, with such attention; he cannot believe anyone else is capable of applying themselves in the same way.

No one else would know to listen for the hiss on Deniz’s teeth while they kissed teasingly as the sign that Deniz had just become aware of his erection stirring.

Who else would know, just from the timbre of Deniz’s voice murmuring caresses into his skin, exactly how close he was to climaxing?

Who else could follow the sounds so carefully, so strategically?

Roman learnt these things himself, it’s true; but he can’t believe that any other person would learn Deniz with the dedication and skill that he has. He knows that he will never be this attentive with anyone else again. The minutiae of Deniz’s reverberating body has been engraved in his mind and, were he sleeping with anyone else, he knows that his mind would automatically link any sound to Deniz’s corresponding one mapped in his head. Deniz is the template, the cast. Everything that follows will be made out of this.

This is how he knows that Deniz will never be touched, be known, in the same way by anyone else. Do other people even think like this? Roman certainly hasn’t before. Who indexes someone else’s sounds in this way? He’s the fucking Henry Higgins of Deniz Öztürk’s sex noises.

Something about Deniz’s utter surrender during sex has compelled Roman to study him in this way, to make himself as responsive to Deniz’s desire as possible; to the point where Roman feels like the sound originates in him, his action facilitating a specific gasp or pant. Each whimper confirms Roman’s power and ensures that Deniz will yield again.

But the submission, while total, is not permanent. Deniz will always fight back, allowing Roman mastery only for a moment, leaving Roman to quail at the thought of losing him and what it would cost him now that he’s allowed himself to go so far.