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Phuwin is sure that by walking up and talking to this guy he will create a problem. Or problems . Many of them. But has that ever stopped him from doing what he wants? And right now, which is crazy in a lot of ways, Phuwin wants the guy who’s sitting on the other side of the club – with a glass of liquor in his hand, his shirt unbuttoned showing off his toned chest, one leg folded over the other.
It is the sight of a man who is a problem .
And Phuwin? He is completely up for it, even though he doesn’t look like it in the slightest.
His usual club attire is nothing like the others, mainly because Phuwin doesn’t drink and dance, he just... observes , hence the loose jacket layered over a slightly unbuttoned white shirt – enough to make people wonder.
Looking for handsome men has become his obsession. No, actually, he wouldn’t call it that – it’s more of a hobby that occupies every weekend of his life and could take up every night if he wasn’t working or needed sleep. Usually (always) that’s where it ends – just observing with a few nods and making notes in his head of his rating of each guy.
Not this time.
He hears his friends asking if he’s okay, trying to hand him a glass of the drink he usually orders just so he doesn’t sit with nothing in front of him. He hears the music in the club and feels the bass flowing through his body. He can hear his own heart pounding in his chest.
His gaze is fixed on the man on the other side of the club. Phuwin hasn’t just already rated him (a perfect twelve out of ten, thank you very much); he’s created a whole scenario for their conversation and what that conversation will lead to, starting with them leaving the club and heading to Phuwin’s flat (or the guy’s, if it’s closer) and ending with them tired and well-fucked in bed.
And just as he is about to get up and approach the man, something happens on the dance floor. Phuwin’s gaze and attention shifts from him to the situation for just a few seconds, but when he tries to focus back on the man, he is nowhere to be seen. Phuwin looks around frantically, gasping and panting in frustration.
“ Fuck ,” he mutters, but is heard anyway by his friend sitting next to him.
“Hey, Phuwin. You alright?” Fot asks, and Phuwin wants to say he’s fine, but can’t; lying to his best friend seems wrong to him, so he just shakes his head. “No one interesting this time?” he asks again and Phuwin is about to say everything, but he feels more than he hears that someone is behind him.
So Phuwin was also being watched.
“Hi,” he hears a deep voice behind him, a voice he can recognise anywhere. His thoughts fly through all the voices he knows, just in case, but they stop at one that is his favourite – the voice of the host on his favourite radio station, the best voice he has ever heard, the one that made him jerk off more than once, sometimes only from hearing ‘and now something slower’. Oh, he’s ready to be taken slow and deep.
Phuwin turns to make sure the face he saw earlier matches the voice, and gods help him, it does. He smiles softly, barely visible, but the man is already looking at his lips and Phuwin knows he has won. “Hi,” he replies, then gets up from the couch, from his usual spot on the side, and stands in front of the man, who is slightly taller than him. “What’s up?”
“Let’s talk,” the man says, leaning slightly over Phuwin, softening his voice for no other reason than to make Phuwin feel weak. He points to the door to the VIP area, a part of the club with soundproof windows and heavy curtains blocking the view.
Phuwin’s smile widens, and he nods, saying, “After you, Mr Naravit ”. The man looks at him, they both have exactly the same smile on their faces, a smile that says, ‘you will be mine tonight’. “I’m Phuwin, by the way,” he adds just in case.
Naravit nods with understanding. “Very well, Mr Phuwin . Call me Pond,” he whispers in Phuwin’s ear, causing him to blush slightly, then walks away towards the door.
“Don’t wait for me,” Phuwin says to his friends and disappears behind the door before they have time to react.
---
Phuwin isn’t even bothered when they both enter the room that is the boss’s office, he simply walks over to the couch, which not only looks more comfortable than the one he just sat on but is more comfortable too. He glances at the screens on one of the walls and snorts with laughter. The boss’s office, of course.
“A radio host by day and nightclub owner by night?” Phuwin asks as Pond walks closer. “What else should I know before you kiss me?”
It was a risky question, but the man looks entertained, so Phuwin sits back more comfortably and waits for what’s to come.
Pond walks over to the bar in the corner of the room and starts preparing drinks for them, probably not knowing that Phuwin won’t touch his anyway. If anything comes out of this meeting, he will enjoy it sober. That’s why he doesn’t drink alcohol at all.
“You don’t drink, do you?” he hears and chuckles again. Interesting , he thinks pleased.
“Did the boss watch me on one of his screens to know that?”
Another risky question, laced with just a hint of sarcasm, which this time made Pond laugh. Phuwin smirks, planning to continue using this tone.
“My father hasn’t been in this office for months, so probably not,” Pond says and sits down next to Phuwin. Close, almost hip to hip. “I, on the other hand – yes. Yes, I’ve been watching you.”
“Ah, stalker ,” Phuwin replies in English, his classic smirk never leaving his face. He glances sideways at Pond’s face and sees a small smile, as if the man has won something and isn’t about to share it.
Phuwin knows what the men he hooks up with expect from him. He looks cute and that’s what they want – they want him to be all over them with a shy smile and no intention of starting anything. They treat him like a princess, and he plays his part well enough to keep them happy.
Pond, on the other hand, seems pleased that Phuwin is a bit cheeky, sarcastic, as if he knows his personality from watching him on screen. Seeing that Pond is so sure of his win, Phuwin thinks it’s time to put him in his place, since he likes the less shy version of Phuwin so much.
“Were you bored of it? Looking at me through the screen?” he asked, keeping the same tone as before. Pond’s low murmur is the only answer. Phuwin smiles. “I see, I see... well, in this case,” he says and smoothly changes position and straddles Pond’s lap, facing him, “this shouldn’t bother you, right?”. Pond shakes his head, and his eyes focus on Phuwin’s exposed chest. “Pond, look at me.”
Another test of tone, another victory for Phuwin. Pond’s eyes slowly – very slowly, to Phuwin’s satisfaction – move from his chest, up his long neck, to his mouth and stay there. The corner of Phuwin’s lips lifts slightly. What if ... “Eyes, Pond,” he says, his tone more demanding.
Pond pulls his eyes away from Phuwin’s lips and crosses them with Phuwin’s, there is something dark about his gaze, and Phuwin likes it. It could be a warning, maybe Pond is done with Phuwin as boss, or it is an invitation to do more .
There’s another question Phuwin wants to ask, though. After that, things will end up great or terrible, but there are things they need to clarify. “How far do you want us to go tonight?” he asks, feeling Pond’s breath hitting his Adam’s apple.
“Kiss me,” Pond whispers almost desperately and catches Phuwin around the waist, to which the other pulls away slightly.
“Just a kiss...” Phuwin says and clicks his tongue. He parts his lips slightly and shrugs his shoulders. “Let it be just a kiss then,” he agrees, although he knows that’s not what Pond meant.
Pond doesn’t wait for Phuwin to move closer himself, he pulls him close, their bodies collide with a muffled thud. Phuwin’s fingers find their way to Pond’s short hair, and their lips meet with a shared moan.
For a first kiss, there’s nothing subtle about it, both of them fighting each other more than agreeing on the pace or who is controlling it. Pond’s hands try to get under Phuwin’s jacket and shirt, while Phuwin untangles one of his hands from Pond’s hair to grab his jaw, making sure he’s the one on top.
They are loud, their bodies moving together and their hands are everywhere. Politeness and manners have been thrown out of the window, only need and desire remain.
“Take it off,” Pond whispers into Phuwin’s mouth, and Phuwin is almost ready to agree, but his sassy side tells him not to.
“You wanted a kiss , Mr Pond,” he says, pulling away slightly, looking Pond in the eyes, making sure he sees what he wants to see there – lust and nothing else. Pond groans, clenching his jaw, but nods, clearly unsatisfied with his choice of words. “But if you take me home, you can get another one,” Phuwin teases, before climbing off Pond and fixing his clothes.
Pond stands up, approaches Phuwin, kisses him lightly and says, “I want to fuck you senseless, Mr Phuwin.”
Phuwin smirks again, turns and walks away towards the door. But first he checks himself in the mirror behind the bar. When he sees Pond behind him, he says, “Well, when we get to my house, you’ll know my address, right? Come over... sometime.”
---
Pond visited Phuwin six times in two weeks. Each of these ends with a kiss somewhere in Phuwin’s condo, including the bed. Phuwin is so close to jumping on Pond at every opportunity and fucking him like there is no tomorrow. And yet, for some reason that only his feelings-deprived mind knows, he is able to restrain himself and kick Pond out of his house and, with a sweet smile, ask him to come again.
One thing about their kissing style is that they always devour each other. Their kisses are loud, full of moans and, usually, pinning each other to all available surfaces.
The first time they kiss outside Pond’s office was when Pond drove Phuwin home. He walks Phuwin to the door, waits for it to open, then pushes him inside and pins him against the nearest wall, pressing himself into his mouth. Phuwin starts to moan before the door even closes behind them.
There is nothing gentle about this kiss, Pond is giving his all while Phuwin bits Pond’s lips and keeps his hand on his throat, pressing, waiting for a reaction. Pond picks him up, rubbing his back against the wall, moving even closer to him than he was, his whole body leaning against Phuwin’s.
“Rude,” Phuwin says, panting as if he had run a marathon rather than finished a kissing session. Pond looks at him, there is something soft in his gaze, almost apologetic, his hands leave Phuwin’s thighs, giving him the choice to stay as he is or return to the floor. Phuwin only clenches his leg’s wrapped around Pond tighter, making sure he stays positioned on Pond’s hips, and continues, “Do it again, Mr Pond,” using the same demanding tone as in the office.
And Pond does.
Well, fuck him , Pond is a damn good kisser.
---
Phuwin surprises his friends on the first weekend after meeting Pond by not turning up at the nightclub. Fourth calls him and for almost fifteen minutes tries to persuade him to come. What Fourth doesn’t know is that Phuwin has said nightclub owner’s son in his condo, ready for another making out session.
“Not looking for the perfect man anymore?” Pond’s teasing is just that, teasing and nothing more. He points to his lap, encouraging Phuwin to sit in his newly assigned seat. Phuwin sits comfortably, throwing his arms around Pond’s shoulders and shakes his head.
“Why would I look for someone else when the perfect man is wriggling beneath me,” Phuwin answers the question, smiling as Pond squirms trying to find a good position for himself. “So, your favourite colour?” Phuwin continues the questioning that had been so rudely interrupted by Fourth’s phone call.
“Currently? The colour of your lips,” Pond replies and eagerly begins kissing Phuwin’s lips.
---
Pond’s seventh visit makes Phuwin weak before the guy even enters his flat – jeans and a loose black sweater and those damn glasses, combined with a perfect smile, give no room to wonder why he really came. Add to that Phuwin’s soft-looking outfit – too-short shorts and an oversized T-shirt (which he saw on Pond the other day and thought, fuck it, I need it too ) and Phuwin knows he’s screwed.
“Can we stop playing this game?” Pond asks, sitting down on the grey couch with Phuwin’s legs in his lap. “I want to fuck you, you want it too, so why the fuck are we playing this?”
Phuwin nods, his teeth catching his lower lip for a second. “I wanted to know more about you,” he admits almost shyly. Pond muses, something appears on his face as Phuwin looks at him, too quickly to guess what.
Feelings shouldn’t be part of it, Phuwin is more than aware of this, but he had a crush on Pond even before he met him – Pond’s voice had been everything and more to Phuwin for years, and the last two weeks have only confirmed that Phuwin, in fact, cannot live without Pond’s body, voice and mind. That’s why he wanted to know more, he wanted to kiss those lips, he wanted to listen to that voice, he wanted to look at that body, he wanted to have Pond before they ended up in bed.
Phuwin wanted Pond to want him, not just want to have sex with him.
“You’re usually more... demanding ,” Pond remarks, his voice softening.
Phuwin takes a deep breath before asking, “Do you even like it when I’m bossy?”
“I like you,” Pond says automatically, which shocks them both. He stops massaging Phuwin’s feet (when he started doing this, Phuwin has no idea), while Phuwin looks at him with his mouth hanging open.
“Oh,” Phuwin lets out a shaky breath, searching for the words to respond to this.
“No, I mean–”
“Me too,” Phuwin quickly interrupts him. They stare at each other, Pond’s eyes pleading, but with a hint of something darker. Phuwin can’t help himself and jumps on top of Pond and perches himself on his lap, his arms around Pond’s neck. “Kiss?” he asks, half-demanding, half-begging, and Pond groans and presses his fingers into Phuwin’s waist. I’m going to be bruised here , he thinks, before his thoughts and body are preoccupied by another kiss from Pond and his hands sliding off Phuwin’s waist and touching his bare thighs.
---
The usual view from Phuwin’s bed is mundane, black curtains at night and the skyscrapers of Bangkok during the day. Every time he wakes up, the curtains open, showing the Bangkok that everyone loves so much. It is a simple and calming sight, just before the chaos of his life.
Tonight, however, his view is very different. With the curtains drawn back, in the dim light of the three table lamps Phuwin has in his bedroom, Pond stands proudly in the middle of the room while Phuwin sits on the bed, staring, waiting .
“Take it off,” he says simply, in his usual commanding voice. Pond looks as if he wants to argue, but after a second or two he nods. Phuwin happily puts one long bare leg over the other.
“On one condition,” Pond states with a smile. “You will not touch yourself tonight.”
Phuwin’s jaw drops slightly, then smiles at the thought. “Make it worth it,” he says, placing his hands on the soft bedding behind him. “Take it off,” he repeats in a whisper.
Pond takes his phone out of his jeans pocket, turns on some slow ballad that Phuwin knows will land on his playlist, stands in the middle of the room and says, “Eyes on me, hands don’t move unless I say otherwise, got it?” Phuwin nods and grins again. His mind, though, has other plans.
He knew Pond would be a problem . He knew Pond would be the dominant one in this relationship.
And Phuwin couldn’t have chosen better for himself.
The slow movements of Pond’s hips begin with the first line of the song’s lyrics, but Phuwin doesn’t even know what the song is about, he can only focus on the way Pond moves. Pond slides his hands up and down his sides and finally grabs the hem of his sweater and slowly lifts it up, showing off his perfect abs and – oh gods – Phuwin is almost drooling at this point, even though the real show hasn’t started yet.
As Pond pulls his sweater over his head, Phuwin has the best view of Pond’s stretched out body. He feels like standing up and dragging his tongue all the way up his body, from his lower abdomen – so immeasurably close to the belt in Pond’s jeans just waiting to be undone, across his chest, to his Adam’s apple. Phuwin swallows his saliva and tightens his fingers on the bed sheets, excited by just what he sees... and imagines.
Pond doesn’t stop. When the sweater disappears thrown somewhere behind him, he turns around and begins to swivel his hips again, as if he were more often on the dance floor at his nightclub than behind his desk in his office. Phuwin doesn’t know when the belt slips out of the loops in Pond’s jeans until Pond turns to face him –the button is undone, help the gods– and takes three steps towards him.
“I don’t like what your hands are doing with the bedding. Up ,” Pond says in a firm tone, pointing at Phuwin’s hands, to which Phuwin smirks.
“What if I don’t?” Phuwin asks playfully, catching the band of Pond’s underwear with the finger of one hand. “What if I stop sitting nicely?”
Pond groans and pushes Phuwin, then saddles him and lifts his hands above his head. “No more stripping,” he teases, and presses himself into Phuwin’s lips before he has a chance to respond.
Phuwin is convinced that he will die either from lack of air in his lungs or from Pond pressing him into bed. He never thought it would be such a pleasant death; he can already see the headlines: ‘ Phuwin Tangsakyuen, 22, died from being kissed too well ’. He moans against Pond’s lips begging for access to oxygen and only when he slowly starts to drift off does Pond pull away.
“I almost died here,” Phuwin complains, but his blissful smile says otherwise.
“That was your punishment for moving,” Pond replies and leaves another kiss on Phuwin’s lips, this time just a barely-there one. “Shall I continue?”
“Trying to kill me or stripping?” Phuwin asks, dropping his arms around Pond’s shoulders, and adds, “Because I don’t mind both.”
“You’re absolutely insane,” Pond says with laughter and frees himself from under Phuwin’s arms, only to grab his hands and wrap his wrists with a belt. “Are you okay with this?” he asks softly, and when Phuwin nods, he tightens the belt a little more. “Good. Maybe this will keep your fingers in place,” he adds and gets off the bed. “Hands above your head,” he commands with a grin on his face, “we’ll see how long you can hold.”
Pond changes the song, this time an instrumental to something Phuwin is convinced he knows, then returns to his spot. It takes him less than 30 seconds to pull off his jeans, although he tries to move slowly. Phuwin sees the outline of Pond’s cock in his boxers and wants to move, but fights it, obeying the command by holding his arms above his head, bent at the elbows for comfort. He clenches his thighs together, holding his dick in check, and groans as Pond turns around, showing him his shapely ass.
“Pond, please ,” Phuwin moans louder as Pond begins to pull off his underwear, slipping them slowly down his bottom, buckling up to Phuwin and then throwing his boxers and socks roughly towards the rest of his clothes. When he turns back towards Phuwin, his jaw drops.
Pond is fucking perfect. Everywhere .
This is the end of Phuwin. There is nothing left of him, he is an utter mess, full of want and lust.
“Let’s focus on you now,” Pond says standing in front of Phuwin completely naked, his cock dangerously close, actually at tongue’s length, to Phuwin. Pond unbuckles the belt and takes it off Phuwin’s wrists, then carefully, almost without touching his body, pulls his shirt off. Phuwin is breathing hard, mouth open, ready for whatever Pond is planning. “You want it?” Pond asks and Phuwin feels like snapping back, but yes, indeed, he wants to feel it in his mouth , so he nods, opens his mouth more and sticks his tongue out a little.
Phuwin doesn’t even try to hide how much he enjoys the size, weight and taste of Pond’s cock on his tongue. He moans happily with every thrust from Pond and every time Pond’s cock hits the back of his throat. Pond’s hand on his head, his fingers tangled in Phuwin’s hair, using his mouth the way he wants. Phuwin is lost, aroused to the point where he could come untouched in his underwear.
“That’s enough,” Phuwin hears and whines, trying to pull Pond closer, sucking him harder. “Phuwin, I’m not kidding,” Pond warns him, breathing heavier with each of Phuwin’s sucks. He groans and pulls his cock out of Phuwin’s mouth, as unhappy as Phuwin is, and crouches down in front of him. “You’re so good to me,” he praises Phuwin and caresses his face, “so pretty like this.”
“Do you like well-fucked faces?” Phuwin asks teasingly as Pond helps him out of his shorts and briefs. Pond looks at him with the same expression on his face as before, and Phuwin is almost certain that this is the face of a man who likes a little too much for his own comfort.
“Not plural. I only like one well-fucked face,” he says quietly as they face each other, their naked bodies almost merging into one. Pond wraps one arm around Phuwin’s waist while his other hand touches every spot on Phuwin’s face.
“The owner of this well-fucked face likes you too,” Phuwin replies and catches Pond’s finger, which has wandered to Phuwin’s lips, between his teeth for a second or two. He leaves a kiss on Pond’s lips and says, “You know, I almost came there. It’s never been like that before, so–”
“Much? Hmm, yeah,” Pond agrees, voice low, then lets out a groan as Phuwin tugs at his short hair. They kiss again, slowly, lovingly, as if time was not passing and there were only the two of them in the world. Phuwin thinks he can stay like this, with his lips on his man’s lips, his hands all over his man’s body and his cock sliding up and down his man’s cock. He moans into the kiss, overwhelmed with emotion.
Just the two of them against the big bad world.
“Bed?” Phuwin asks, his voice ringing like a bell in the silence of a bedroom that has ceased to be a place of foreplay and has become a place of love. “Let’s make love tonight,” he says, not as coyly as he thought it would sound.
“Let’s make love every night,” Pond says, slowly guiding Phuwin to the bed. “Lube? Condoms?” he asks as Phuwin sits in the middle of the bed – the practical Pond winning over the romantic one makes Phuwin snort with laughter. He points to the bedside table, hoping that one day they won’t use condoms, then laughs again as Pond takes several different types of lube out of a drawer. “Why would you even–”
“Strawberry one, please,” he replies to the unasked question, dodging all the ‘why’ and ‘how’ questions. Pond shakes his head, then nods, tossing the strawberry lube on the bed along with two condom packets. “Two?” Phuwin raises an eyebrow, at which Pond looks at the almost empty box.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he says and places the third one on the bedside table. “It’s gonna be a long night.”
Phuwin knew that Pond’s low radio voice was his weakness, so when he hears Pond use it, he almost melts. “Say it again,” he demands, and when Pond does, he groans and begs for it again.
Pond doesn’t stop using that voice all night.
---
Mornings after have become his favourite part of the day. Phuwin never felt so cared for and loved as when Pond was jumping around him, making sure he was feeling well and ready for the day.
The nights were long and busy. It wasn’t always during the week, Phuwin’s work didn’t allow him to stay up all night having sex, but at weekends Pond always found his own ways to keep them entertained until well into the morning.
One time he brought Phuwin a dildo bigger than his cock and, using his puppy eyes, begged Phuwin to agree to use it. And what was Phuwin supposed to do? Of course he agreed – and afterwards he said they could actually use it more often.
Another time, Pond turned up with a whole box of sex toys. Phuwin looked at it critically and said that if there were cat ears inside, Pond could go back to his place for the night. Pond left, and a minute later returned, presenting him with the contents of the box. Phuwin was sure that Pond had decided to destroy his in every way possible – and he was happy to let him.
Sometimes, though, their nights were full of slow sex, during which Pond would kiss him wherever he got and shower him with love, never stopping to use his radio voice. Phuwin tried to do the same, letting him feel loved as much as Pond loved him.
Some nights they lay in bed, kissing over and over again and/or giving each other hand jobs.
And most nights they spent simply cuddled up together, or talking for long hours on the phone when they couldn’t visit each other.
Pond quickly became an integral part of Phuwin’s life. He was supposed to be a problem, a one-night stand, and instead, Pond became Phuwin’s most important person.
---
In case you're wondering, this is what they looked like when they first met:
And this is how Pond looked when he visited Phuwin that night:
