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It’s taken months to get here; buzzed and giggling into each other’s mouths as they stumble up the stairs of Chay’s old family home.
He’s no idea what possessed them to come here when Kinn’s birthday dinner had finally come to a close, Porsche unsubtly making eyes at his lover and Khun yawning into his fist like an exhausted toddler. Why, when they have two other residencies to choose from, both more comfortable and lavish than Chay’s childhood bedroom promises to be, they had decided that if this was finally going to happen, then it has to happen here?
Chay can’t even remember whose idea it was, but they’re a genius.
“Watch your step,” Kim snickers, when Chay’s foot catches and he nearly goes sprawling, because he refuses to take his hands off Kim’s body long enough to look where he’s going, and so he’s backing himself carefully (or not so carefully) upwards so he can work eager fingers at the buttons of Kim’s black shirt. “I’m not catching you if you fall.”
“Liar.” Chay makes the accusation with a wry smile. Under his insistent pulling, one button pings off completely. “You’ll always catch me.”
Kim’s breath catches in his chest, and he has to pull them up short at the top of the stairs, back Chay against the nearest wall and seal their mouths together. Like he won’t be able to breathe again unless the air comes directly from Chay’s lungs.
“Yeah,” Kim says, a whisper, a secret, “I always will.”
Which is not the first time that Chay has heard similar sentiments expressed. Kim’s devotion to him is a creature of enormous proportions. It lives and breathes and most days Chay adores it, and other days he finds it terrifying, but he respects it all the same. Can identify that there’s a monster of similar inclination making a home in his own psyche. Some days he wants to do nothing more than crawl underneath Kim’s ribs and never leave and he’s entirely sure that Kim might let him, might peel himself open and make room if only Chay would ask.
Mutual obsession, Chay calls it in his head. Kim laughs at him when he says it out loud, but he never disagrees.
“Come on, before you make me cry.”
Chay snatches Kim by the wrist and starts tugging him insistently towards the bedroom door. Of course, Kim follows, an amused and affectionate smile pasted on his face as Chay hauls him across the room and straight down onto the bed.
He has plans, and he can’t let Kim and his big wet eyes and beautifully pouted lips and his pretty poetic words derail them.
Kim exhales sharply, an oof wheezing out of him as Chay drops onto the mattress, right onto his back, and pulls Kim insistently on top of him. Chay barely even lets him catch his breath either, hands diving back underneath his parted shirt and coasting over the shape of his chest and the dip of his abs while he seals their mouths together in a searing kiss.
It’s taken them months to get here, and this part they’re very good at by now.
Chay knows exactly how to tilt his head and arch his neck while they kiss, opening his mouth for Kim’s eager tongue. He knows that brushing his thumb against Kim’s nipple will make him shiver, and Kim likes to thread his fingers in Chay’s hair and knead against his scalp until his eyes roll back in his head.
Kim’s weight against him is familiar. They know enough about making out like the horny honeymoon-period couple they are that this part is easy.
What stalls them is Chay’s fingers plucking at Kim’s belt with the same lust-drunk dexterity that had been used to unbutton his shirt.
“Angel,” Kim gasps, but he doesn’t try to stop him, which Chay takes as a good thing. “Before we– I should tell you–”
Chay gets the belt free, slipping it off of Kim’s hips and throwing it somewhere in the room with a little crash that Chay thinks might be one of his middle school sports trophies. He doesn’t look though. Kim’s zipper is much more interesting.
“–God you’re so distracting.”
“I’m trying to be.”
“Chay–” Chay chooses that moment to stick his hand right down Kim’s pants. The shape of him, half-hard and so hot, fits right into Chay’s palm, and Chay moans at the feeling even as Kim reaches between them to still him with a hand at his wrist. “Wait. Just. Wait a second, there’s something I need to tell you.”
It’s not quite dread that overcomes Chay, more like a little trepidation. Hesitance. He tries to pull his hand away completely but Kim won’t let him, which is a good sign, but Kim is still looking at him with a strange kind of intensity that usually only comes with bad news.
“Have you changed your mind, P’Kim?” And Kim opens his mouth to reply, but Chay, always so talkative with his anxiety, is hurrying to add, “Because it’s okay if you have. We don’t have to do this tonight. We can just. Do other stuff. Or nothing. Kissing is okay, too.”
Kim huffs at him, dipping his head to connect their mouths again, swallowing the little confused humph that Chay gives as he thoroughly and slowly works his tongue back into Chay’s mouth. Cups one hand at his jaw and thumbing his bottom lip away from his teeth so Kim has better access.
Chay goes lax, melting into the sheets. Kim kisses him, and doesn’t stop until Chay’s racing thoughts have screeched to a blissful stop.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m…” Kim’s cheeks flush a delicious shade of pink, Chay wants to sink his teeth into them. “I’m not loud.”
“Huh?”
“In bed. I’m not loud in bed.” He looks like he’d rather the ground swallowed him whole than continue this confession, but Kim squeezes his eyes shut and pushes through. “I just don’t want you to think I’m not enjoying it. It’s just how I’ve always been.”
“Oh,” Chay says, for lack of anything better to say. “That’s okay, phi, as long as you’re having fun, it doesn’t matter how much noise you make.”
But even as he says it Chay can read the anxiety in the sudden stiffness to Kim’s shoulders while he makes his confession, and he has to wonder how many of the sparse number of partners Kim has had before made a point to mention Kim’s quiet disposition.
If he’s going to be brutally honest, Chay had kind of expected Kim to be quiet anyway. He’s like that in life too, and it’s never bothered Chay before.
“I promise, Kim.” Chay wriggles his hand out of Kim’s pants, so he can press both palms either side of Kim’s face. To angle his head so they’re looking into one another’s eyes. “I don’t need you to be loud. I just need you to feel good, okay?”
Blinking down at him, Kim processes the words, and then he breaks out into a wide smile. Radiant, even in the dim lighting of the room, and it’s no time at all before they’re meeting at the mouth, once again back on track.
And this time, there’s nothing to stop them.
It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t have to be. Because Kim might nearly fall flat on his face when he scrambles away from the bed to pull his clothes off, and Chay might forget where he left his lube and have to run around his bedroom bare ass naked looking for it while Kim giggles at him, but it’s still perfect.
Kim gets slick fingers inside of him and it becomes obvious that Kim never should have worried about how much noise he makes, because Chay makes enough for both of them. Panting and whining and moaning.
And talking. He can’t stop talking the entire time. Praising Kim for how good it feels, begging for more. Chay groans and whimpers and swears and the whole time Kim looks at him like he’s something incredible.
And in the end, Kim’s not completely silent either.
Sure, he’s quiet, as Chay rolls onto his stomach and hikes one leg up, reaching back to spread himself open so that Kim can press the tip of his cock at his entrance and slowly start to slide inside. Kim definitely isn’t loud, but there’s not an absence of any noise either.
If Chay pulls the pillow into his mouth, biting down on the rough cotton, and listens closely, then he can hear Kim’s low, pleased hums. His breaths come quicker, heavier. Kim rocks down into Chay slowly, but with enough force that Chay feels it up in his lungs, and each time there’s this little hiss of air that escapes through Kim’s teeth.
It’s especially obvious when he starts to get close and Kim drops forward onto his elbows, his chest plastered against Chay’s sweaty back. When he starts feathering kisses against the back of Chay’s shoulders and nibbling at the nape of his neck. Then Chay gets to hear the strained whimper of his name through Kim’s shuddering breaths.
The word Angel panted directly into his ear.
It’s hot, actually, and Chay can’t help himself but to say so, loudly. Babbling, “So good, you’re so hot, P’Kim, so fucking– oh my god. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t– ”
Mixed with the creak of Chay’s old mattress, the slick and wet slap of skin on skin as Kim starts to lose himself in the clutch of Chay’s body, it’s the sweetest symphony that Chay has ever heard and he has no idea– none at all– why anyone would ever take issue with the amount of noise Kim makes in the bedroom.
oOo
Approximately three weeks later, right in the middle of their insatiable can’t-get-enough-of-each-other phase that comes with crossing the last physical boundary in a new relationship, is when Chay finds out Kim might be a bit of a liar.
They have been having a lot of sex. A ridiculous amount actually, but Chay reasons that they’re young and in love and horny, so why should they worry about too much sex when they can just spend all their free time learning how their bodies work together.
Chay learns that Kim really likes it when Chay rides him. He learns that his own chest is sensitive enough to make him come untouched, but Kim’s is less so. Chay learns he likes doggy, and missionary is good, when Kim isn’t trying to bend him into a pretzel and giving him cramps in his legs, but his favourite position might just be on their sides, with Kim spooned up against his back.
Kim likes getting sloppy head, which is good, because Chay is terrible at it right now, and his constant gagging and sputtering should be good for something.
And amongst all of the things they’re trying, Kim also wants to try bottoming.
“You’re sure?” Chay asks. Kim presses a bottle of lube into his hands, already reclined naked on the sheets with his legs spread like an invitation. “We don’t have to–”
“I want to. With you.”
It’s no secret between them that Kim’s never bottomed before, so it’s not a request that comes without pressure, but Chay isn’t going to say no. Not when Kim is pulling on his lower lip with his teeth, fluttering his lashes like some kind of minx.
“You’re… You can’t just look at me like that,” Chay whines, dropping his forehead onto Kim’s chest and laughing into his passion flushed skin.”With the eyes and the mouth– It’s not fair P’Kim.”
“What’s that saying,” Kim hums, and a hand sinks into Chay’s hair, petting and rubbing. “All’s fair in love and war?”
“And sex.” Chay lifts his head just enough to nip his teeth at Kim’s collarbone, forcing one of those quiet little gasps out of his throat. He follows the action with a kiss, right over Kim’s heart, turning his head and latching onto a nipple as he flicks the cap on the lube open and dumps a too large glob into the centre of his hand.
Kim rumbles a little pleased sound, head tipping back into the pillows, his hair pooling around his head like a darkened halo. Chay moves lower, until he’s lapping the line of goosebumps erupting like a breadcrumb trail across the planes of his stomach.
Chay’s journey culminates just below Kim’s bellybutton, with the seal of his mouth pulling the skin upwards, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise behind.
Above him, Kim curses. A soft and delicate thing, and one of Chay’s favourite noises to coax out of Kim during these moments. He’s started trying to stifle himself, when they get intimate, if only to hear Kim better, because in a way, they’re addicting. These tiny, easy to miss expressions of his arousal. Chay never wants to miss a single one.
Chay works his fingers into Kim gradually. Starting with one, and then two. When he scissors them apart Kim trips over his own breath, it stutters in his chest and restarts again. When Chay starts to curl them, to twist his wrist and corkscrew his fingers, he looks up at Kim’s face and he looks incandescent; skin glowing with sweat and a creeping pink blush. Kim has his eyes screwed shut and his mouth open in a delicious O shape as he pants and gasps his way through the pleasure.
Chay is so hard, so achingly turned on at the sight of him, that by the time he gets three fingers into Kim’s hole he’s astounded that Kim is still able to be so tightly controlled. By this point, when their roles are reversed, Chay is a howling, moaning, mess.
But here is Kim, legs splayed, hole slick and stuffed, and he’s still as quiet as always.
Even if Chay isn’t. Can’t be, it seems, even when he’s giving it. “You feel so good, P’Kim,” he slurs into the skin of Kim’s inner thighs. “So tight. Can’t wait to be inside you. Can’t wait to feel you come for me.”
“Fuck, Chay,” Kim hisses, and Chay’s head pops up from where he’d been working teeth against Kim’s hipbone.
Because that’s usually how Kim sounds when he’s been rutting into Chay’s body for the better part of half an hour. Not when they’re still in the foreplay section.
It’s the first sign that this isn’t going to be like any other sex they’ve had before.
Chay eases his fingers free, apologising when Kim scrunches his nose and wriggles his hips against the suddenly empty feeling. Chay knows it well, and he hates it too, so while one hand slicks his own cock with more lube, he also passes a hand over one of Kim’s trembling thighs like he’s soothing a spooked horse.
“You ready?” Chay drops onto his hands, hovering over Kim’s prone body. Kim nods, his eyes are half-lidded and hazy. Chay’s already addicted to the faraway look in his eyes. “Sure?”
“Chay.” Kim’s tone is low, a warning, and it makes Chay grin wide like a fool. “Now.”
And who is Chay to ignore an order like that?
With a hand between their bodies to guide him into place, Chay aligns himself and begins to press forward. He bites his lip, stifling himself long enough for the head of his cock to pop inside, but Chay is, and always will be, loud in bed, so of course he starts talking as he rocks forward in incremental little thrusts.
Of course he tells Kim how good he feels, how perfect he is, how hot and wet and he thinks at some point he even thanks Kim for letting him inside. Chay grunts and huffs with each roll of his hips setting him deeper each time; Chay moans, when he gets all the way inside, his hip bones pressing into the globes of Kim’s ass, but for the first time since they’d started having sex… he isn’t the only one.
Kim moans too. Loud and hoarse.
Chay has to stop because at first he thinks he has hurt him. That is until Kim whimpers, tucks one leg higher on Chay’s body and uses the press of a heel at his lower back to urge him to keep going. And Chay is so, so desperate already, that he obeys. He starts to move, to roll his hips in a slow but insistent press.
Kim just keeps moaning. Chay’s not even sure if he’s aware of it, punched out noises that are seemingly being fucked right out of him by Chay’s cock, but just in case he isn’t, Chay isn’t going to bring it to his attention.
And the longer they go on, the more the noises evolve. Chay sits back on his heels, slipping his hands into the bend of Kim’s knees and pressing them closer to Kim’s chest so Chay can rut into him at a new angle and Kim starts cursing, high pitched in a whine that sounds almost painful. Kim’s screwed his eyes closed again, like before, and his fingers are twisted hard in the fancy bed sheets beneath him.
“Can we–” Chay is panting with exertion, slowing his hips into a slow grind so he can get Kim’s attention, but even as Kim blinks back into awareness, his head rolling on his neck like he hasn’t got enough energy to hold it up on his own, Chay can’t help but to snap his hips up one more time just to make Kim go ah! “Can I put you in a different position, Phi?”
Kim nods, sweaty and eager and with his hair clinging to his skin. He needs help, Chay pulling himself out of Kim’s hole– and Kim once again whimpers like he’s been punched– so he can take Kim by the hips and guide him up onto his knees and over.
Kim settles on his elbows, ass in the air, and his forehead dropped against the mattress. Chay soothes his hand the entire length of Kim’s spine, then down between his legs to hook his fingers inside again and probe around until he’s rubbing directly against Kim’s prostate.
“Oh my god,” Kim sounds like he’s sobbing, rubbing his face back and forth in the bed. “Chay. Fuck, Chay.”
“So good, P’Kim,” Chay moans in response, an echo chamber of pleasure. “You’re so good.”
Chay slips his fingers out and his cock back in. He settles both hands at Kim’s lower back and applies just enough pressure that his spine starts to arch, so that Kim has to set his knees a little wider and Chay can get his own knees on the inside of them, pressing them open and keeping them spread. Kim arches into the relentless pace that Chay starts from the get go and he only gets louder.
Now there’s whimpers and keens and these hitched, desperate sobs. Kim has stretched one arm up above his head and planted his palm against the headboard as if bracing himself, and his mouth remains open and drooling against the bedspread and Chay is… Chay’s going to come so fast if he keeps this up. Because it’s so unbelievably hot.
Controlled, composed Kim. Stoic to the point of his own detriment, and he’s currently squirming and panting on Chay’s cock like he’s losing his mind. Like he’d fall apart if Chay were to stop.
“Oh, oh, there, please. Please, Chay, Angel, ” Kim wails, fat tears spilling down his face. The one hand not braced against the headboard flailing back, reaching for Chay, and Chay reaches back, slipping his hand into Kim’s so they can keep each other from falling apart as Kim chants, “Right there, fuck. You’re gonna make me come, I’m gonna–”
“I want you to.” Chay isn’t sure if it's a request or a demand or maybe a question, they’ve never really played with anything like this before. Too focussed on finding all the best ways to make each other come, but Kim seems to take it like an order anyway. “Wanna feel you come.”
And they do. Not together, but it’s a close enough thing. Kim thrashes and wails and comes all over their bedsheets, and a little up his own chest, and he gets so tight. Never mind that Chay, apparently, is really into Kim being broken down to his basest parts and laid out for display. For Chay’s eyes only.
Kim hasn’t even finished coming when Chay stills his hips and comes. He can’t stop himself from pulling out as he does, watching the last spurts of his spend splatter over Kim’s gaping hole. Watching Kim twitch as he feels it too, listening to one last, drawn out moan before it’s lost to the over-exerted panting.
They stay like that. A frozen tableaux of post-coital bliss. And then Chay starts laughing.
“I’m not loud in bed,” Chay intones, in his best impression of Kim’s serious voice. His deep but gentle timbre that he uses for the big conversations.
“Shut up,” Kim grumbles, he’s still face down ass up, and he sounds wrecked as he speaks. It makes something in Chay’s chest purr with delight. “That’s never happened before.”
“Clearly.” Chay flops down onto the bed beside Kim, rocking the mattress enough that Kim flops too, no doubt right into the wet patch left behind. “You were… Phi, you were screaming for it.”
He expects he will get another biting response. Maybe a laugh, or that Kim will roll towards him and curl at his side. But instead, Kim just lays there. Turns his face on the mattress so he’s facing the wall on the other side of the room and not Chay.
And in the absence of all of Kim’s noise, the silence is heavy.
“Phi?” No response, and Chay shuffles himself closer, within touching distance but not actually touching because sometimes Kim shrinks away from contact immediately after. Sometimes it gets too much for him. So Chay gets close enough, but not too close, and he lets Kim feel his presence through proximity alone. “Kim, can you look at me, please?”
A beat passes, then two, then Kim starts to carefully manoeuvre himself. He’s trembling the entire time, limbs shaking as he goes up onto his knees and then turns himself over onto his side facing Chay properly, and then settles himself back down and pulls his knees up towards his chest. Without prompting, Chay moves into the same position so that they’re mirrored, staring at one another and blinking slowly.
“That’s never happened before,” Kim whispers.
“It’s not a bad thing.” Chay smiles as he says it; grins might be a better descriptor. “I liked it. I liked it a lot actually.”
Kim flushes, and he has to look away for a moment, gathering his composure. “I could tell,” He says, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “But it still… It’s still never–”
“Happened before,” Chay finishes, and he nods in sympathetic understanding. “It’s okay that it freaked you out, Kim. New things are scary. If you decide it’s too scary, we never have to do it like that again.”
“No,” Kim says, too quickly, and it makes the pink on his cheeks turn a bright, burning red. “No, I think. Maybe we should do it again. We can do it again.”
In the slim space between their bodies, Kim raises one of his hands and slips it across the mattress until he can touch the tips of his fingertips against Chay’s lips. Tracing the shape of them, watching as he does. And Chay watches Kim watching him.
When he smiles, Kim follows the new shape with his touch, and he smiles right back.
Kim leans over to give him a gentle kiss. Then a second. And when he pulls back, barely inches between their open mouths, he exhales a joyful breath of laughter.
“Scary is okay," Kim admit. "As long as it’s with you.”