Alan might most likely and perpetually have no idea what he was doing, while sitting inside his Mustang and one unused ticket to an orchestra concert that will end in around twenty minutes and was bought by him many months ago, for a romantic gesture to his then ex-boyfriend. 

Min Thanakrit had told him that he had wished to attend the concert and thus Alan went to a war online — and somewhere along Min’s wide smile when Alan told him that Alan had reserved the ticket, that Alan thought it was pretty much worth it. Right then, he was looking at the e-ticket on his phone, unsure whether Min would still come or not. He could have asked — yet Alan did not. He did not even reach out to any of Min’s friends even if he could, and Alan thought he would have crossed the line. Yet he still did not. 

Alan looked over to the passenger seat and realized that he no longer remembered what Min’s scent was. His own scent has taken over the entire car quietly since the last time Min seated himself there. There was a hint of juniper lingered faintly that Alan couldn’t figure out where it came from until he hugged Khunpol that night. 

Khunpol smells naturally like autumn, Alan thinks, something earthy and almost grounded like the tree roots. Like a deep green, if it ever makes any sense. Khunpol wasn’t even that small to begin with, but there was something about Khunpol shrunk into his arms at that moment. His shallow breathing on Alan’s collarbone left subtle dents and Alan almost couldn’t hear the heart beating. 

Khunpol felt like a normal human at that moment, who had normal motives and intentions, who had ordinary backgrounds and upbringings. Khunpol tasted sweeter when he didn’t have any outrageous narratives that he was trying to feed Alan with. Khunpol wasn’t always manic, sometimes he was just a research student trying to make his project work. Sometimes Khunpol was just Khunpol, and Alan crossed the dangerous line of thinking that he could live with that fact. 

The truth is, Alan was completely aware that he didn't have to — he isn’t obligated to care, he is just tasked with a marriage. Marriage is probably the easiest part, Alan had mapped it all out after his breakup with Min. Marriage is only an administrative thing at the end of it, a facade to a multibillion baht business deal. Though the partnership would benefit Svasti more than his family, the fact that Svasti had offered Khunpol has increased the likelihood and fascination. Had it been any other Svasti then the deal was probably less likely to happen, therefore Khunpol was wrong, because Alan could have not picked anyone other than him. 

Because there is only one Svasti with a blue, Vihokratana blood — Khunpol had always been special from the very first start, yet Alan was never required to care about him. They could’ve just thrown the biggest wedding party, registered their marriage, and never have to see each other ever again. Khunpol wouldn’t care — hell, Khunpol would probably like it better if they both didn’t have to care. 

Yet Alan let his recklessness take over, and then it resulted in a massive scheme of Khunpol giving a fuck with a whole lot of false motivations and hopes. Alan couldn’t help but wonder how different it would be if he didn’t kiss Min that day, or if Khunpol wasn’t there to witness it all, or if Khunpol wasn’t a manipulative intellectual that has visible derangement and questionable principles. 

“What is he up to anyway?” Alan murmured as he opened his latest conversation with Khunpol and found the image of Khunpol’s newest prototype that Alan had been bugging him with. Alan had no idea how an artificial heart would work or how it would be implemented inside a human body. Alan tried to make Khunpol explain about the entire thing, only to end up blanking out mid explanation. 

Alan wanted to tell Khunpol that the marriage has to happen anyway, for it is what they both have to do. Yet Alan wanted Khunpol to know that he won’t stand in the way of Khunpol’s goals and dreams, that Khunpol truly can do whatever the fuck he wants despite being married to him — still, Alan doesn’t know how to make Khunpol believes. 

After another moment, Alan then decided to get out of his car and left the parking lot eventually to enter the hall with only ten minutes left of the concert. Alan had never had the intention to watch anyway, thus missing almost the entirety of the show was not an issue. He then stood in front of one of the doors where the usher came and said, “Are you coming in, Sir?” Alan nodded silently when the usher guided him into the theater before pointing at his designated seat, “Would you like me to bring you to your seat?”

“That would not be necessary, thank you.” Alan offered a polite smile as the usher excused himself — Alan quietly leaned towards the wooden walls beside the door instead as he saw Min’s head popping out of the rest of the crowd. Min Thanakrit has looked entirely different and the same all at once, Alan hasn’t figured out whether it was because Min has entered the entertainment industry or that it’s simply because they have both grown up so much that the only pieces that Alan recognized at first were the ones that lingers from their teenage years. 

Marc had said to him that it wouldn’t work out the second time, and Alan previously didn’t understand the weight of one of Marc’s reasons being that Min had chosen to become an actor. Right then, Alan knew exactly why Marc had said what he said — because Alan doesn’t like owning things in halves and that Alan doesn’t know how to desire without making a shrine out of it, and all because Alan has only a little amount of his own — just a bedside table-sized. 

There was an empty spot beside Min where Alan should have seated, yet Alan remained at his spot until the show was over. He swallowed something terrible, maybe an abysmal truth and acceptance that it was truly over, because Alan didn’t find himself wanting to fill the hollowness beside Min. For the first time in months, his own words have finally dawned in him about how Min deserves better. 

Alan stayed where he was even as Min Thanakrit stood up and prepared himself to leave when Min’s eyes found their way to Alan. There was a burning house, and there were them. Min didn’t offer him a smile as he pressed his lips together as he picked up his steps to Alan’s direction. Alan had prepared everything that might happen when Min got closer, and closer, and eventually nothing at all.

Min Thanakrit walked past him like Alan Pasawee was a ghost, leaving the theatre soundlessly. Mayhaps Alan also deserves something or somebody else, although Alan was never sure what he deserves. Alan then forced himself to walk in the opposite direction of the guests that were trying to find an exit before he found his seat — and it was a good seat, the view was almost on the center of the stage. 

Alan was indeed the last person to leave the room at the end when he finally saw that it all had become ashes — it was no wonder Min left so quickly, there was not even a chair for both of them to sit and eat dinner, or breakfast. Or just to talk, or for Alan to tell Min that he was sorry that he had ever given Min a knife just because he knows it so well that Min doesn’t have a heart to say no to Alan. 

“Pasawee.” Alan zoned out to the point that he didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the exact seat he should’ve sat in during the show — if he ever showed up — until a familiar voice echoed through the aisle. Khunpol was standing not too far from his row, clearly questioning his presence there as much as Alan shot him a confused look. Behind Khunpol was his cousin— Nattakit, who greeted him with a nod as soon as they locked eyes. 

The three of them didn’t say anything for a moment as Alan kept his gaze on Khunpol, until Nattakit casually said, “Yeah, I am going to the restroom and you two can solve whatever this—.” Nattakit paused as he did a circular motion with his hands in front of Khunpol, “Weird, sexual tension,” Nattakit added before leaving the two men.

“What are you doing here?” Alan asked instead after Khunpol broke eye contact.

“What are you doing here?” Khunpol asked back, more skeptically. Khunpol then must have mistaken Alan’s blanking out silence as a sign of reluctance, thus he quite surprisingly, gave in first, “Nex dragged me here, we got this special invitation from the palace since Nex lost the ticket war online.”

“Oh,” Alan responded hastily and it only occurred to Alan after a while that Khunpol somehow still demanded an answer out of him, “I, uh, Min was here, I was supposed to go with Min but I didn’t show up, because of stuff, we saw each other briefly— well shit, I bought the tickets for the both of us months ago.” Alan was borderline blabbering and Khunpol wasn’t even budging from his position. 

“Oh,” Khunpol said with a slight nod without any following statements or judgments — Khunpol just looked mildly exasperated by Alan’s odd stuttering. It was after only what felt like an infinite cycle of spinning in his own head that Khunpol decided to move and walked over to Alan’s row and eventually seated himself beside Alan. “Well, that explains the weeping,” Khunpol commented nonchalantly. 

“I wasn’t weeping,” Alan declared. 

“No, you are just fucking embarrassing me,” Khunpol replied flatly with a small scoff at the end of it — he probably also rolled his eyes, but Alan didn’t catch him in action. “Orchestra date is a really cute date idea though, I’ll give you credit for that,” Khunpol added and somehow it made Alan’s chest burst out a bubble of chuckle. 

“Yeah, it’s over,” Alan forced it out of his throat.

“The show?” Khunpol knew exactly what’s over when he let out a scoff a second later, “Does that mean that we are really going to marry?” 

“There is really no saving mine and Min’s relationship, you know?” Alan said instead in return, “I just play along because you and your manic ideas needed to be entertained or else you wouldn’t believe me,” Alan continued and patted himself mentally for not actually puking on the carpeted floor, “I shouldn’t have kissed Min that day.” 

“You can be a very awful person, Pasawee,” Khunpol replied almost immediately and made Alan shoot Khunpol a look while Khunpol was silently staring at the empty stage. There was something about the way Khunpol delivered it with a small smirk hanging on his lips, like it was just tragically the condition — that Alan is just an awful human being, “Shifting the blame to Min as if all of this ended solely because he is the one who doesn’t want to take you back.”

Khunpol turned his head swiftly to face Alan, mayhaps because he needed to make the point, “Let’s admit it that you never even wanted to try.”

“You don’t try things that you know don’t have a desired ending,” Alan argued at last, like a confession to the last act of a foremost sin, “And Min doesn’t want to take me back, it’s still a fact. Just because you think I don’t try— doesn’t mean that it is less true, Khunpol,” 

“Stop calling my name like that,” Khunpol cut in almost immediately and it almost baffled Alan.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to understand,” Khunpol returned, “Because I understand— I know how it feels to try things that I have no fucking idea whether it will fucking work out or not.” Khunpol paused and exhaled a sharp breath, “You just don’t want to take the risk and that alone tells a lot,” Khunpol ended and there was this sickening feeling of comprehension that Khunpol possesses — mayhaps Alan and Khunpol might just always understand each other even if they are strangers, and they were no longer strangers. 

“I just don’t understand why you don’t, though,” Khunpol added in a solemn tone, “I saw what you can do.”

“Why are you still trying to manipulate me into taking Min back? I have told you that it’s over—.”

“I am not, Pasawee,” Khunpol cut in as he threw Alan a death glare, “I am genuinely questioning your motivations. The answer to which one you are going to choose when you are faced in between what you love and what you are told to do.” Khunpol deadpanned at the end of it, “Between me and Min Thanakrit—.” Khunpol cut himself harshly like he was also just realizing what he demanded from Alan.

How much of a difference would it make if Alan had never kissed Min that day and that Khunpol had never seen them together at that state? How would it be if Khunpol had just snitched them to their families? What if Alan had just ran to Min? What if Khunpol was a little bit crueler than Khunpol is?

Because Khunpol isn’t — Khunpol isn’t the kindest person that ever walked on earth, and isn’t even half as gentle as Min is, but Khunpol is not a bad person. Khunpol could have been a worse person, but Khunpol is not. 

“You’d choose me,” Khunpol added at the end, all by himself, “Because marrying me is on your to-do-list,” Khunpol continued, “And it’s easier, it is almost without risk, I am the worst safest option that is available who made you run around to get back with your ex-boyfriend, and you think it is ridiculous but I am still your innocuous choice that is given to you.” Alan could almost taste the regret on Khunpol’s tone, which was horrible. 

“I’m sorry, I wish we had better beginnings,” Alan said because he felt like the lingering remorse would have killed him on the spot, “I wish we had known each other in any other, better ways.”

Khunpol shook his head slightly at Alan’s words, “We probably won’t have it any other way, this is probably how it is going to go anyway. And if it’s not with me, you’d do it to someone else,” Khunpol stated as he stood up from his seat. “Marry me then, Pasawee,” Khunpol said as he looked down to Alan from his position, “Be stuck with me and I’ll get stuck with you for the next ten, fifteen years, and maybe that’s what we get for telling ourselves that we don’t have a fucking choice.” 

“We don’t,” Alan replied curtly. 

“Exactly,” Khunpol said as he pulled a slight smirk, almost condescending, yet more rueful in a way.

“So are you two going to continue to argue in a sexually constipated kind of way or are we still going for a drink?” Nattakit’s voice cut through the air like a time bomb, as the latter stood at the end of the row with both arms folded in front of his chest. 

“Oh, I can only hope that this ends in any kind of sexual way.” Alan raised his eyebrows skeptically at Khunpol’s mischievous statement, “Because Pasawee here is a fuddy-duddy prude that won’t touch me.” Nattakit faked a puke in response as Khunpol masked whatever the fuck was happening minutes before when he pulled a grin — as if they weren’t choking each other and still ended up with the conclusion that were fated from the very start, “Wanna come with us for a drink?”

—

“He terrified me at first.” Alan almost nodded in agreement too fast and too immediately when Dechawat — Copper blabbered after his third glass, “Very murderous eye look and presence,” Dechawat added nonetheless.  Alan thought so too — that Khunpol is always capable of homicide if he wants to. The question left hanging is what are the things that Khunpol wants?

“It’s true, it was really funny when they first met, I was there and Copper almost pissed his pants,” Thai Chayanon chimed in with full mirth, a half-drunk gin and tonic on his hand, “You were fake-scribbling something on your notebook and dropped your pen when Khunpol asked you what your major was and what were you studying so seriously!”

“I was scared as shit! He sounded very judgemental in my head,” Dechawat replied in horror, “He delivered it in a very flat tone too but then he was grinning ear-to-ear.” 

“He’s borderline psychotic like that, it’s his entire personality,” Heart Chuthiwat added nonchalantly. 

“What happened then?” Alan asked instead to Copper, who was still animatedly trying to express his feelings.

“He grabbed my pen from under the table and handed it back to me, I was trembling shitless,” Copper replied, “He was like, hey, your pen— and I was like yeah, nope, you can keep it!” The sound of laughter rang out of the group from their private area of the club, Alan wondered which one of them had the connection for always getting the group the privilege. Mayhaps it was Khunpol himself. “Khunpol ended up being the kindest person ever though, I was just really anxious,” Dechawat added at the end.

Alan shot a look at Dechawat afterward, as if he misheard the statement, “You’re lucky,” Dechawat said instead when their eyes met. 

“From the sound of the laughter, you guys are definitely talking shit about me,” Khunpol announced his arrival from the bar with an immediate judgement as his eyes fell on Alan. 

“We were talking about our first meeting!” Dechawat said cheerily. 

“The one where you fake-studied and dropped your pen?” Khunpol answered as he walked through Chayanon and Heart to Alan. There was a small gap in between Alan and Heart yet it wasn’t big enough for a person as Khunpol stood in front of the gap with a Negroni in his hands, “Are you not going to offer me to sit on your lap, Pasawee?” Blood rushed into Pasawee’s cheek and ears way faster than Pasawee would have loved, as Dechawat visibly taken aback by the statement and got nervous all by himself before he moved away from Alan just to make space for Khunpol. 

“Relax, Per, I am just kidding,” Khunpol said as he seated himself nonetheless. He pushed Alan aside for a little bit on the process with his body and ended up squashing parts of Alan’s body with his own before he settled with a more comfortable position. “It was really funny though, I tried to suppress my laughter most of the time on our first meeting,” Khunpol nonchalantly commented. 

“Well, I didn’t know that!” Dechawat huffed. “But you are alright now.” 

“Just alright?” Khunpol teased as he raised his eyebrow before he nudged Alan’s arm, “See, people think that I am okay.”

“I never said the opposite, Khunpol,” Alan replied briskly, “I think you are kind of okay-ish, if you are not being manic,” Alan added and Heart choked on his drink from the other side. 

“Ah, you have realised that he can be manic but still think that he’s okay-ish? That’s impressive,” Heart commented with a small smirk playing on his lips. “And they said romance is dead.” Alan was pretty sure that it was a sarcastic remark in any way, yet the suffocation on his chest got louder and swift in a manner that Alan wasn’t prepared for. 

“Don’t tease him, Chuthiwat, he just got his heart broken for the nth time tonight,” Khunpol replied instead. 

“What a good thing it is that you know how to fix a heart, no?” Alan swore that Khunpol shot up from his position to give Heart an intense death glare after the latter made the comment, as Alan raised his eyebrows in questioning that Khunpol decided to ignore.

“Thai, let’s hit the dance floor,” Khunpol said as he stood up in process and was responded with a loud cheer from Thai Chayanon who enthusiastically grabbed Khunpol’s hands and pulled him away from Alan’s side. There was an awkward sitting distance in between Alan and Copper, and Alan could have tried to engage a conversation with Heart Chuthiwat most preferably about the heart project — yet Alan found himself couldn’t form coherent thoughts to hold a decent conversation even in his head. 

Thus Alan excused himself to the bar instead and ordered three shots of Vodka because that was probably the foremost reason why Alan decided to join Khunpol and his friends. The alcohol might help, Alan still thought, as he stared at the decorative wall behind the bar after his first shot. The bartender gave him an amused look when Alan didn’t give the second shot a break before he chugged it. 

After the third shot, Alan walked himself to the dance floor to find Khunpol. 

“You are right.” Alan had to shout because of the loud music after he effectively grabbed Khunpol’s arm and stopped the latter from moving with the music, “I didn’t— never had it in me to take the risk with Min.” Khunpol raised his eyebrows in confusion for a split second, before it washed down into amusement. 

“What is it? You are too scared to admit it earlier?”

“It’s the liquid courage,” Alan replied, “I chugged three shots in a row.”

“That feels like a small amount for you,” Khunpol said after he leaned forward and pressed himself on Alan to reach Alan’s ear, “What else do you want to confess, nerd?”

“I don’t know.” Alan bit his own lips, he wasn’t sure what he was scared of, “You stood in a pile of ashes back there at the theatre. Marc said it has always been a burning house with me and Min— because I chase the thrill and memories I had with Min from the very start, and I had always tried to make it feel like it was less awful than that.” Alan blamed the vodka, truly, because how else was he going to explain why he laid bare his sins in front of Khunpol in the middle of a club, “But memories are not a person, and I might as well is an awful person.” 

“I’d choose you, yes, because you are truly an ending that I will get, no matter how and what the plot is.” Alan felt like he whispered it in a low tone, although he was pretty sure he might as well be screaming, “I guess that’s why I wasn’t— I don’t, well, that’s probably why it makes more sense to take risks with you, you are the fixed result,” Alan continued as Khunpol stared at him rather in mirth, “I don’t know how to say it better, Khunpol.”

“Don’t call my name like that,” Khunpol replied instead. 

“Like what? I don’t know how else to call your name—.”

“Like I am better than you,” Khunpol said as he raised his voice. Alan stood there unmoving for a moment, because it might be the truth that Khunpol is a better person than him. “I am not, Pasawee, so.” Khunpol shook it off nonetheless, like he put a lot of effort into not saying the rest of the words before he exhaled a sigh and said, “Anything else you feel like saying out loud for your peace of mind?”

Alan felt like kneeling and surrendering when he asked, “Can I kiss you?” Khunpol drew a sharp breath like he didn’t see it coming, and Alan didn’t know what he wanted. Alan didn’t know whether he wanted Khunpol to bend his legs over and told him to picture Khunpol as Min — Khunpol really and genuinely doesn’t resemble Min Thanakrit in any way, and Alan didn’t know what to feel about the absence of Khunpol’s manic suggestions to make him long for Min. 

“Do you love him?” Khunpol asked in return, and Alan didn’t know how to answer Khunpol, Alan wanted to find out too. Khunpol decided himself that he didn’t want an answer when he crashed their lips together — and Khunpol smelled like fall, and a grounded feeling of riding on Pony until nightfall, and hints of juniper, like hiding deep in the forest — all mixed together and invaded Alan’s head like a flood of plagues. 

There was not a single fiber in his body that did not scream Khunpol in a way Alan would have expected, as Alan grabbed the latter’s jaw and used his tongue to split Khunpol’s lips open. Mayhaps they have to stop doing such acts in the middle of a club, because Alan could not help but want, and wants, and doesn't know how to place all the wants in the middle of such an establishment for it was too loud and too many people — and goodness, how Alan devastatingly despises it to share. 

“Khunpol, let’s get out of here.” 

—

Alan tried to be as gentle as possible when he placed Khunpol on his bed, but Khunpol only had half of the patience that Alan possessed. “It’s not Park Hyatt,” Alan said just because Khunpol’s annoyed face was amusing, and almost endearing if Alan wanted to go there, “But anyway, my room is it then, Marc won’t be home until the morning.” 

Khunpol parted his lips as if he wanted to say something before closing them again, and looking up at Alan with his half lidded eyes. Khunpol’s lips were never that pink in Alan’s recollection, or that swollen, or looking so kissable, very much ready to be ruined in every way, “I am going to fuck you up real bad if you decided to leave me half-hard for the third—.” Alan shut him up effectively by pressing their lips together again with more force, less gentle and less hesitation as Khunpol’s head hit the bed by the action alone. 

Alan must have kissed Khunpol like he had never before, when a breathless moan escaped Khunpol and Alan found it intriguing as he shoved his tongue inside Khunpol’s mouth again, fingers cradling on Khunpol’s jaw effortlessly and having Khunpol ran his fingers through his hair. The desire was on every tip of his being, Alan no longer knew how to forfeit. 

Has Alan ever said it out loud about how insanely pretty Khunpol is? Probably never loud enough for it to escape his chest and throat, as Khunpol let out another chain of moans when Alan moved his lips from the mouth to the neck, before he pushed Alan slightly for him to undress himself. Alan couldn’t help but watch the way Khunpol hastily pulled his top over his head, his jacket was already off so early that Alan thought it might have ended up on the living area hallway instead of his room — before he muttered, “You’re so pretty, you know?” 

Khunpol was half naked at that point when he stared at Alan almost in expectation, and only snapped himself back to his senses when Alan called out his name, “Khunpol.”

“Yeah,” Khunpol replied, looking at Alan from under his lashes — only goodness knows what Khunpol was actually asking for. 

“I said you’re very pretty, Khunpol.”

“So you want me to say thank you for something that I already know?” Khunpol raised his eyebrows and Alan let out an amused chuckle before he cupped Khunpol’s chin with one of his palms before kissing Khunpol again. There was an unexplained hunger in the pit of Alan’s stomach, like a dormant desire waiting to be let loose crawling its way right under his heart.

Alan then moved Khunpol effortlessly further to the center of the bed as he continued pressing his lips — and Khunpol chased his touch as the latter pressed both of his palms around Alan’s neck. Oh, what a terrible thought to think that it was the easiest way to choke and kill Alan with Khunpol’s thumbs pressing on Alan’s adam apple. How it is very poetic, Alan thinks that Khunpol is capable of staging a cardiac arrest. 

Khunpol then bit his lips softly when Alan worked his hands into undoing Khunpol’s pants while kissing the latter. Alan purposely brushed his palms against Khunpol’s bulge and had Khunpol jerked his body slightly, only to have Alan pinning hips against the bed. “Stay still for a bit,” Alan murmured against Khunpol’s small moan, as he pulled himself away and made an effort to undress Khunpol entirely. 

Khunpol in general has always been drop-dead gorgeous. There was a lot of something that made him the prettiest being in a room, maybe it was his deadpan demeanor, maybe it was his natural regal presence, maybe it was the way no one could tell what he thinks. Yet Khunpol, naked, being under Alan on Alan’s bed — is entirely and utterly something else. Alan could ruin him, Alan wants to ruin him. 

Alan unbuttoned his own shirt briskly as he couldn’t stop staring at Khunpol, who was watching him back in satisfaction. “So this is the night you will deflower me, that’s insane,” Khunpol said nonchalantly and Alan decided to brush the comment off with a scoff. It was when Alan was taking off his jeans and in the process of pulling his boxers down when Khunpol stopped him abruptly as he pulled himself right up, “Wait, wait.” 

“What is it?” 

“I’m a little nervous,” Khunpol admitted as Alan tilted his head. At that point, he was pretty sure that Khunpol had done sex more than Alan. “I feel like you won’t be open to a non-exclusive partnership so I probably cannot have other dicks around, because you have morals.” Alan raised his eyebrows — he could feel a hot wave rushing inside his head at the mention of another, “I am a little nervous to meet the only cock I can have for the time being.” 

Alan let out a groan as he rolled his eyes at Khunpol before it all broke into a laughter, “Khunpol,” Alan said after the amusement died down as he grabbed Khunpol’s chin, “That is the last thing that you have to worry about.” Khunpol pulled a serious judgmental face when Alan offered him a shit-eating grin while continuing his action beforehand. 

Alan was already hard in the first place, and Khunpol looking at him with a slightly wicked smirk somehow turned Alan on even more. Khunpol was then very obviously staring at Alan’s shaft of his cock until the tip before he drew a sharp breath and met Alan’s eyes at the end, “Okay, very nice thing you got there,” Khunpol said rather nonchalantly as he wet and bit his lips in the process, “For a nerd.”

Alan rolled his eyes again in disbelief and lost it when Khunpol did the eyes again — the ones where he looked up through his eyelashes, “Tell me what you want.” Alan breathed out, because apparently he had morals that pissed Khunpol off. 

There was a visible gulp on Khunpol’s throat before he pulled back, laid himself down on Alan’s mattress, and spread his thighs and legs open, “You already know what I want, Pasawee.” Thus, Alan wants it so badly, it terrified him how he was slightly trembling before he moved forward and placed himself in between Khunpol’s legs, pressing Khunpol’s hips down with his hands and started devouring Khunpol again. Alan made a mental note on how slim Khunpol’s waist is, so dainty yet so firm, shaped perfectly to fit under his palms. 

It turned out that Khunpol’s entire body is cold, not just his hands. “Pasawee,” Khunpol let out a hitched moan and threw his head back slightly at the sensation when Alan moved to suck on his right nipple where Alan was roaming — his fingers traveled through Alan’s hair. Khunpol arched his back higher when Alan sucked harder, the pleasure kicked in massively as his hips met Alan’s, both hard members brushed against each other for the first time and made both moaned desperately in union.

Alan then went back to Khunpol’s lips and traced the vocabulary out of the foreign language that once was kissing Khunpol felt like. Alan purposely rubbed his cock against Khunpol’s cock, grinding down as he found enjoyment in having Khunpol’s ragged breath and moans on his ears — how amusing that Khunpol’s mouth is capable of something so melodic besides his cunning schemes — Alan found himself smiling in the process. 

“Wait, I’m taking the lube.” Khunpol whined at the announcement, “And a condom.” Alan grinned at the way Khunpol whined again, “Oh, that’s very cute, Khunpol.” 

“We can do it raw,” Khunpol replied instead, breathlessly, “Why do you keep condoms? Who else are you fucking on the daily?”

Alan would have mistaken it as jealousy if he was clouded by enough lust and delusion, and shrugged it off instead when he rummaged through his bedside table’s shelves, “We cannot do it raw, what if we have stupid STD?”

“It feels like you are intending it for me even though you used the term we.” Khunpol glared at Alan, who chuckled it off — Alan felt the burst of endearment on his chest and it felt warm against his ribcage.

“I am not,” Alan countered as he tossed the condom to the mattress as he covered his fingers with the lube afterward. Alan then glanced at Khunpol who was staring at his covered-finger before looking back at Alan, his eyes glistening all the way that made Alan gulped down his own saliva. In a swift movement, Alan found himself in between Khunpol’s legs again before he kissed Khunpol. 

Alan sucked on Khunpol’s lower lips softly when he circled his one finger on Khunpol’s entrance — Khunpol’s breath hitched abruptly at the act when Alan continued to press further inside. “Hey, relax,” Alan murmured against Khunpol’s lips as he pulled away a little bit, “Look at me.” Wrong demand, because Alan didn’t know Khunpol would have rolled his head in slight delirium, lips parted and all swollen as he looked at Alan in daze. 

And it made Alan want to know how far he could undo Khunpol, so he inserted another two fingers in without a warning because he had this odd confidence that Khunpol could take him just fine. “Pasawee, fuck,” Khunpol moaned when Alan twisted his fingers inside and stretched them wider just to see Khunpol squirmed messier. 

Alan moved his face closer to Khunpol’s face as he pushed the fingers further inwards and Khunpol’s breath became even more out of rhythm when he tried to arch his back yet Alan had kept his other hand on Khunpol’s hips to make Khunpol stay on his place. “Oh, there you go,” Alan cooed with a crooked smile, like he found a diamond mine and won the treasure hunt, as he hit Khunpol’s prostate. 

Khunpol’s moan crashed like waves and echoed through Alan’s ears and seeped into his brain when Alan playfully pressed on the spot again. Khunpol didn’t even try to be gentle about it or mask the desire, about the intense pleasure that rang throughout his body — and Alan might dig that, might commit himself to discovering Khunpol’s body and map it out like it’s a new world. 

Khunpol looked so estranged from his own sanity and beautiful, with his cock twitching and a sign of pre-cum starting to leak from the full hardness. It looked like it might hurt, thus Alan released Khunpol’s hips and gave Khunpol’s hard cock a series of soft strokes. “Pasawee,” Khunpol whispered put in between his ragged breath, “Fuck me already.” Khunpol whined — Alan might be into Khunpol’s whining, “Pasawee— ah.” Khunpol clenched down on Alan’s curled fingers inside him as if it was a cock, like he was begging Alan to take him. 

Alan would have done it anyway, with or without Khunpol asking, yet Khunpol being demanding rewired something on his brain. Alan ripped the pack of condom with his teeth quietly, rolled it down on his cock before he positioned himself at Khunpol’s entrance. Alan slid into Khunpol slowly as Khunpol’s sharp breath cut through the air — he was already prepped and loose from three fingers, but Alan was way thicker than those fingers. 

“Goodness, Pasawee.” There was amusement on the hitched chuckle that Khunpol made when Alan was midway in, before he threw his head back as Alan bottomed out the rest with one single thrust. “Why does it take you so long to do this? I would listen to you better if you have less good morals.” The comment made Alan roll his eyes again, as he stayed unmoved for a moment to let Khunpol adjust to his length and fell Khunpol’s hole twitching around his hole. 

“Khunpol, I am going to start fucking you just to shut you up,” Alan replied recklessly and mindlessly, too distracted on how catastrophically pretty Khunpol looks like being wrecked and how violent the tapping on his chest. 

“What a great idea—ah,” Khunpol whimpered when Alan started to move in a gentler pace before he picked up a faster momentum in the process. The sound of bed creaking came in collaboration with Khunpol’s noise filled the air precariously, and Alan thought that they would collapse into something more lethal, more permanent like there was no way back. 

When Khunpol’s eyes met his, there were no walls and no wicked determination — just a raw, carnal craving that made him look borderline vulnerable. This was probably the chance if they wanted to tear each other apart, literally and figuratively. Alan was already so deep inside Khunpol, as he reached out and started stroking down the length of Khunpol’s cock.

It was blurry when Alan felt himself on a brink of his own becoming — yet Khunpol came first with a messy whimper, spilling the warm, thick cum on Alan’s palm while Alan was still in full determination to rip Khunpol from the inside and made a dent that only he could fill. Crossing a line that was once so dangerous, yet who carved the line in the first place? Why was there a line at all?

Khunpol clenched down harder even if he was falling apart after he came — Alan thrusted his final move before he came inside Khunpol, and the entirety of it felt like an ignition. Alan collapsed on the top of Khunpol, ignoring the sticky wet spot on Khunpol’s stomach and exhaled his jagged breath into Khunpol’s collarbone when Khunpol let out a breathless chuckle. 

There was a hint of juniper still on Khunpol’s neck, and Alan wanted to carry him into the bathroom and ravage Khunpol inside out again when Khunpol casually placed his hand on the top of Alan’s head and stroked Alan’s hair in a slower rhythm. The thought that anyone else would have experienced this Khunpol, had driven Alan nuts all of the sudden. There was a fleeting rage on the tip of his tongue that he could not comprehend.

“You’re not too bad,” Khunpol muttered and the playful fingers on Alan’s hair didn’t stop — it distracted Alan. Khunpol is everything that doesn’t align with Alan’s preference, but Khunpol understood him in ways that Alan doesn’t realize he could be known for. 

“I could get used to this, you know?