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The people around him never ceased their chatter, but he paid them no mind. The only person who mattered was the one standing before him. As they adjusted his top, Thomas found himself captivated—Kong was more beautiful than ever. He was always breathtaking, of course, but today, he appeared ethereal. The red fabric clung to him as if it had been crafted solely for him to wear. The suit accentuated his silhouette with an elegance that left Thomas enthralled, and that waist... That waist had long since become his obsession.
Kong stood before him, waiting patiently as the staff finished adjusting his top. It was a slightly uncomfortable garment—rigid and tight-fitting, almost like a corset. Yet Thomas never once tore his gaze away. His eyes wandered, tracing every inch of Kong’s figure, drinking in his beauty. His desire burned so intensely that he felt as though his heart might give out from simply looking at him. And I haven't even kissed him yet. Kong looked so delicate in those crimson garments, so untouchably exquisite, that Thomas wished he could banish everyone else from the room and be left alone with him. He ached to strip away each piece of fabric, to press his lips against every inch of exposed skin, leaving no part of him unmarked. Because Kong belonged to him—every centimeter of his being was his and his alone.
Some might call it possessive, even inappropriate, but Thomas knew that Kong was his in the most divine sense imaginable. Not as a possession, but as something far greater, something destined. To Thomas, Kong was the purest existence, an angel cast down from the heavens, sent into his arms by the will of God himself.
His face, his body—every detail had been crafted for Thomas. And that waist... Dear Lord, that waist. Everyone knew how obsessed he was with it. Any opportunity he had, he would reach out and wrap an arm around it, a silent declaration that Kong was his, and no one else’s. His body had been sculpted by the gods, and Thomas would give anything to worship it. He swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing himself to take a deep breath and suppress the unbearable longing.
God, have mercy. He yearned to stand and kiss him, to claim his lips then and there, heedless of the eyes that might witness their passion. Of course, to their fans, the idea of them as a couple was nothing short of a dream, but they simply couldn’t afford to take such a risk. The seconds stretched into eternity before Kong finally took a seat beside him. Thomas’s gaze never wavered, transfixed, as if Kong held an unbreakable spell over him. It was almost laughable how obvious his infatuation had become, yet he cared not.
Kong, oblivious to Thomas’s lingering stare, laughed while conversing with others. But when he finally turned his attention toward him, Thomas met his gaze with a smile so full of love that Kong thought he might melt on the spot. He quickly averted his eyes. Truth be told, Thomas made him nervous—so much so that his legs trembled beneath the weight of his presence.
Kong bit his lower lip. Damn it. He wished for the event to end swiftly, for the chance to climb onto Thomas’s lap and kiss him breathless, to mark him as his own. His heart pounded in his chest, an unrelenting rhythm of anticipation. Yet all they could do was exchange fleeting, knowing glances.
Some time later, the event finally came to an end. They had posed for the cameras, promoting the product as required, before descending the small stage set up within the shopping center. Their manager guided them toward the exit and into the sleek black car that had brought them there. She excused herself, stating she had to retrieve something and would return shortly, leaving Thomas and Kong alone in the vehicle.
The silence between them was thick, palpable. Thomas clenched his fists, his thoughts consumed by how utterly beautiful Kong looked—and now, with no one else around, it became infinitely harder to suppress. Kong leaned back against the car’s plush interior, releasing a sigh.
"What an exhausting day," Kong murmured, breaking the silence.
Thomas could not formulate a response. His breathing was heavy, his body tense as he fought the tide of unrelenting thoughts. He closed his eyes, attempting to banish them.
"P’Thomas?" Kong’s voice, laced with concern, pulled Thomas back to reality. His eyes snapped open, meeting Kong’s furrowed brow.
Thomas’s gaze flickered to Kong’s slightly parted lips, the delicate curve of his mouth drawing him in. Those lips, so full, so inviting—meant to be kissed, to be claimed. His stomach tightened, and a single thought echoed in his mind: Do it. His chest ached with restrained desire, a longing that would only be satiated with Kong in his arms.
"I’m sorry, love," Thomas finally whispered, offering a warm smile.
"You worried me, P’Tho. I thought you weren’t feeling well," Kong chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the moment.
Not feeling well? Of course, I’m not. Can’t you see what you’re doing to me?
And that voice... Sweet, melodic—he was certain Kong’s moans would sound like heaven itself. The thought made Thomas’s restraint waver. He longed to tear away the barriers between them, but now that they were alone... Could he? His mind reeled with images of Kong in that red ensemble, but more than that, he envisioned him beneath him, bare and breathless, his skin adorned with Thomas’s touch. The ache in his chest deepened—along with something else.
Kong remained unaware of Thomas’s internal turmoil, and before he could react, Thomas closed the distance between them, capturing his lips in a fleeting kiss. It lasted but a moment before he pulled away, gauging Kong’s reaction.
Kong’s eyes were wide with surprise—he had not anticipated this. Not at all. Panic flickered across Thomas’s face as he immediately withdrew.
"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—"
Before he could finish, Kong grasped the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in, pressing their lips together once more—this time, deeper, hungrier. Thomas drank in the taste of him, sweet like honey, impossibly soft. He encircled Kong’s waist with one arm, the other cradling his cheek with tender reverence. When Thomas parted his lips further, his tongue sought entrance, and Kong surrendered willingly, his breath hitching as their tongues met. Tasting everything, as if it were the purest nectar. Kong moaned at the contact with his tongue. The older man melted, his ears nearly vibrating at the sound. His groin throbbed painfully, the pressure almost unbearable. In a swift motion, Kong found himself seated on Thomas’s lap. Their hips pressed together, and both groaned at the contact. Thomas gripped Kong’s hips, guiding him to move against him. Their movements were frenzied, desperate, their breaths fast and erratic. Yet, somehow, Thomas found the strength to break the kiss. It was agonizing, as if his heart had been ripped from his chest. He rested his forehead against Kong’s, both panting heavily after such an intense moment. It was not enough.
"P'Tho..." Kong purred, his voice nearly a plea.
"You… have no idea what you do to me," Thomas murmured in a deep, husky tone. Kong closed his eyes, savoring the moment.
"God, if only you knew all the things I want to do to you," he continued. Thomas touched Kong with burning desire, leaving fire in his wake. He squeezed his hips so tightly that he was certain he would leave marks. "I adore you so much, baby." Kong purred at the praise—oh, he was so good.
They would have kissed again if not for the distant voice of their manager.
Startled, Thomas quickly signaled for Kong to return to his seat. Their hearts pounded wildly, their bodies aching for release. They adjusted their clothes hastily, nearly caught in the act.
"Sorry for the delay, I left my phone behind," the manager said as she reentered the car. Thomas and Kong gave her a reassuring smile. What a terrible timing, Thomas thought. She started the car, and they drove off.
Thomas bit his lower lip and, without thinking twice, said:
"Could you drop us off at my condo, please?" Kong glanced at him knowingly, hiding the smile that tugged at his lips. The manager hesitated for a second but ultimately agreed, redirecting the car toward Thomas’s place. The sky resembled a canvas, painted with hues of pink, orange, and blue as the sun set. The city lights began to flicker to life.
Upon arriving at the condominium, they exited the car, thanking the manager and promising to return the outfits the next day, claiming they were simply too exhausted for anything else. Of course.
The moment the door to the apartment closed, Thomas wasted no time. He pressed Kong against the wall, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. His hands roamed from Kong’s waist to his ass, kneading eagerly. Kong moaned into his mouth. Thomas’s lips traveled down to Kong’s exposed neck, licking and nibbling just enough to leave a lasting mark on his lover’s pale skin. He relished in the act, ensuring that no inch of Kong’s neck was left unclaimed. Kong’s breathless sighs were like music to his ears. His grip on Thomas’s shoulders tightened. His legs felt weak, as if they might give out at any moment. The growing bulge in his pants had become unbearable.
"Ngh... P'Tho..." Kong whimpered softly. Thomas trailed his tongue from his neck to his ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth and tugging lightly. His groin pulsed intensely, his hips unconsciously seeking friction. "Please... Ahh..." He was desperate, on the verge of losing himself. His mind was hazy with desire, the world around him fading into nothingness. He couldn’t think straight—not with Thomas devouring him so hungrily.
"What is it that you want, love?" Thomas whispered, his voice as soft as a breath, nearly imperceptible. He traced a hand over Kong’s chest, brushing against the delicate curve of his collarbone—revealing just enough to be elegant, but not obscene. Kong never opened his eyes, his body refusing to respond. He knew that if he dared to look at Thomas now, he would shatter completely.
"You. I want you," Kong confessed.
Thomas smiled before kissing him again. His hands found their way back to Kong’s ass, lifting him effortlessly and carrying him toward the couch just a few steps away. He sat down, positioning Kong astride his lap.
"I want to rip all this off you—it’s in my way," Thomas growled, tugging at the red jacket covering Kong’s torso. He removed each piece with fervor but was careful not to tear them. Kong did not resist. He moaned at the sensation of Thomas’s fingers tracing over his exposed skin, yearning for more... So much more.
"Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, so perfect, and you’re mine alone." Thomas’s breathing was heavy. His eyes darkened, filled with unquenchable hunger. His appetite for Kong was insatiable—he had wanted to devour him the moment he saw him in that red ensemble. Kong looked absolutely divine in red.
The smaller man simply purred at Thomas’s praises. In public, Kong often acted as though Thomas’s words had no effect on him—laughing them off—but in truth, they melted him inside. His heart pounded so wildly that he feared it might burst from his chest. At this point, their clothing was nothing more than an inconvenience. They needed to rid themselves of it as quickly as possible. Kong lifted Thomas’s chin, ensuring their eyes met. His gaze burned with intensity. Kong’s eyes glistened, tiny tears pooling at the corners. He felt whole. Thomas looked at him as if he were the only person in the world (and he was). He gazed at him with such reverence that Kong thought he might die from the sheer emotion of it.
Thomas pulled away momentarily to remove his own clothes, revealing his toned chest and lightly defined abdomen. Kong hesitantly reached out, trailing his fingers over Thomas’s bare skin. His lips parted slightly, mesmerized by the sight before him. He mapped out every inch of Thomas with delicate reverence, as if committing it to memory forever. He gently squeezed each of Thomas’s pectorals, drawing a low groan from the older man. Kong’s eyes darkened at the sound, his arousal intensifying.
A mischievous smirk spread across his lips as he slowly began to lower himself, never breaking eye contact. He wanted to see Thomas’s reaction. The older man’s chest heaved erratically. God. He was going to kill him. Kong gripped the waistband of Thomas’s red trousers, sliding them down. Thomas lifted his hips to help rid himself of the fabric at last. He leaned back against the couch, exhaling a sharp breath at the sudden relief. Kong’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp at what lay before him.
"You don’t have to do this," Thomas finally spoke, his voice raspy.
"I want to."
"...But I don’t know how," Kong admitted, his cheeks flushing. He bit his lower lip. God. How embarrassing.
"I’ll teach you, love." Thomas cupped Kong’s cheek, stroking it with a tenderness that reassured him—there was nothing to fear. With just a touch, Thomas could make all his worries vanish. He made Kong feel safe, so incredibly safe. Thomas was so good to him.
The older man guided him gently, keeping his hand on Kong’s cheek, silently encouraging him to continue. Kong hesitated before parting his lips slightly. He wasn’t sure if he could take it all. He started with just the tip, and Thomas swore he could have come right then and there with just the touch of Kong's mouth on his cock. Feeling more confident, Kong opened wider, taking in more. He began to move, slow and uncertain at first. Thomas was a symphony of moans and gasps. He struggled to restrain himself from grabbing Kong’s hair and start fucking his mouth.
"Fuck... Ngh," Thomas groaned, fighting against his climax. He needed to hold on just a little longer. But with Kong kneeling before him, looking so utterly breathtaking. He was always pretty. But this image totally surpassed all his dark and dirty fantasies. Kong kept doing his job, but at one point he pulled his cock out of his mouth and traced Thomas's length with his tongue, savoring every inch. He couldn't hold on any longer.
"Oh, keep going," he groaned, his breath ragged, his body trembling from the intensity of the moment. Thomas came all over his abdomen, breathing heavily and spasms running through his entire body. God. He had never come so hard. He took a few seconds to steady himself before looking at Kong with renewed desire. He motioned for him to stand and reached for the buttons of his trousers.
"It’s my turn now," he murmured, pressing small kisses against Kong’s abdomen, leaving behind faint marks. Kong’s hands found their way into Thomas’s hair, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into the sensation. He allowed himself to be guided, surrendering to Thomas’s touch.
The dimly lit apartment was cast in the glow of the city lights, their figures outlined against the velvet couch. He sat him on top of him again. Thomas traced his hands along Kong’s frame, taking in the softness of his skin, the delicate curve of his body. His breath hitched. It was almost surreal—finally having him like this, holding the man who, in his eyes, was perfection incarnate. Kong was beyond words, beyond comparison. He was simply… Kong.
Thomas mapped a path from his abdomen to his chest, his lips lingering against his skin. Where he pinched and licked Kong's pink buttons with his mouth. Kong let out soft, breathy sighs, his hands clutching at Thomas as if grounding himself in the moment. Their lips met again, the kiss slow and deep, a lingering exchange of emotions that neither had the words to express. The older man stuck his tongue inside Kong's, tasting himself, it was an elixir. Thomas' free hand took Kong's length and began to move it up and down. Kong whimpered into Thomas' mouth, desperate to reach his own climax, moving his hips forward for more friction. Oh, How fragile he looked.
"P’Tho... Ahh," Kong whispered, his voice trembling. Kong caught Thomas's bottom lip with his teeth, his abdomen tightened and an electric current ran through his spine, before he unleashed his load onto Thomas's hand and stomach. He pulled Thomas closer, pressing their foreheads together as he tried to catch his breath. A warmth spread through him, an overwhelming sensation that left him lightheaded. God, he felt like he was going to faint. After a few minutes, Thomas gently picked up his partner and laid him down on the couch, then, Thomas reached for a few tissues from the table nearby, taking care to clean up before gathering their scattered clothing that was lying on the brown tiles. Once everything was in order, he returned to Kong’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist. Kong instinctively curled into him, their fingers intertwining. The simple gesture brought a soft smile to Thomas’s lips. Now or never.
"I like you," Thomas whispered, his voice just loud enough to be heard.
The words sent a shiver down Kong’s spine. His heart pounded against his ribs, the confession settling deep within him. Thomas had laid himself bare, vulnerable in a way that went beyond physical intimacy. If Kong had asked, Thomas would have given him everything—his heart, his soul, his very being. No hesitation. No regret. In truth, the word "love" felt insufficient compared to what he felt for Kong.
Kong took a moment before turning to face him. His expression was unreadable, and for a fleeting second, fear gripped Thomas’s chest. Was he about to be rejected? Had he misread the situation? The thought of losing Kong, of having his heart left outstretched with nowhere to go, was almost unbearable.
But then, Kong smiled. And he kissed him.
"I like you too," he whispered against Thomas’s lips.
Relief flooded through Thomas, his breath finally escaping in a quiet exhale. He pulled Kong closer, capturing his lips once more, this time in a slow, unhurried kiss. They weren’t in a rush. There was no urgency, no desperation—just the quiet, profound acknowledgment of something that had always been there between them. A kiss filled with love, honest and pure.
It wasn’t just desire. It was something deeper, something written in the stars. They were meant to be. Thomas couldn’t quite describe the feeling—it was something infinite, like the horizon, where the sky met the sea in an eternal embrace.
From the moment Thomas first laid eyes on Kong, he had known. There had never been another choice. Kong was his.
And now, after all this time, Kong was his at last. And, most importantly, he was his willingly.
Thomas had never felt more content.