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Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He tries to suppress the urge to look up again. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. He sighs and gives in. Even the tiny hands on the clock seem to be judging him now. Seriously, what’s wrong with him? It’s just a couple of hours. Surely he can survive a couple of hours without his pain in the ass (most times quite literally), boyfriend.
Five minutes later he is looking back at the clock and he realises that no, he can’t. He can’t go hours without the idiot Tharn.
He sighs for what feels like the thousandth time this evening and turns around till his nose is buried in the pillow.
Even the goddamn pillow reminds him of Tharn. The vanilla body wash he uses, that always clings to his skin and makes Type want to lick all over. Once he has allowed this thought to develop, his thoughts spiral until he is remembering that one night.
Type was only half sleep, something about the empty space next to him had bothered him too much to settle in for the night. He was, therefore, quite aware when his boyfriend finally got back.
Tharn, probably assuming him to be asleep, had quietly made his way to the bathroom for his routine shower. Type had laid in bed, patiently waiting for his boyfriend to come back and cuddle him to sleep. He was past the stage where he acted like he didn’t enjoy the feeling of being cocooned in Tharn's huge ass arms.
He felt the bed dip beside him and soon he felt the familiar warmth enveloping him. Tharn making his home around him, tightly wrapped up till Type could feel nothing but naked skin pressed against his back. His eyes were closed but his nose was on high alert.
Damn Tharn and damn his intoxicating smell.
The next few minutes saw Type struggling to stop the increasingly dangerous thoughts of devouring his boyfriend. It worked for a total of five minutes. With a muttered curse under his breath, he turned around till he was facing his sleeping boyfriend.
“Tharn?”
He got a mumbled “hmm”, in response.
“Tharn, wake up.”
His boyfriend didn’t bother opening his eyes, instead he raised one eyebrow at him.
“Tharnnnnn”
This time he got a lazy “Typeee” from the dumbass sharing his bed. He licked his lips and internally ordered his body to behave. He cleared his throat but still ended up croaking a broken, “I am horny.”
Tharn “woke up” so fast, Type was surprised he didn’t pop a vein. Barely hiding the grin taking over his face, he asked “ What was that, babe? Didn’t quite hear you.”
Type tried to make a mean face but his stupid cheeks were already burning. He looked away before muttering a simple, “want you, please” .
He didn’t even have to look at his boyfriend to know there was a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Aww, look at you begging so nicely.”
Against his better judgement, Type had said, “Not begging.”
It was a blur after that. Tharn had climbed on top of him in record time, pressing both his wrists into the bedsheets. Type had barely registered his new position under his boyfriend's body, before said boyfriend had stripped him of his pyjamas and grinded down on him with so much enthusiasm, he saw stars.
After that, the night was spent moaning and making a mess of the sheets. When Tharn finally let him come after hours of edging, he had tears streaming down his cheeks.
And yeah, Tharn made him beg all right.
Even the memory of that night, makes a shiver run down his spine. He remembers how he had whined and begged for release. He remembers the solid weight of Tharn on top of him. His cock buried so deep inside, Type could feel it in his gut. He remembers the way Tharn had groaned when he had come, the way he had dug his fingers into his hips till there were pink bruises all over his skin. He remembers his –
No. No. No. What the fuck is he thinking. Not the time for this, Type, he berates himself. But it’s too late it seems. His cock twitches with interest in his shorts. Fuck.
He takes a deep breath and tries to think of gross things to make his boner go away. It works pretty well but now he can’t deny that he is horny. He wants his boyfriend to come home already and take care of him but he is too proud to call Tharn and beg him to come back.
It is at this point that he makes the wise decision of shifting from the bed to the couch. The bed is much too distracting, he decides.
He has barely sat down when the boredom and horniness hit him again. He considers taking a late nap but even as he tries to make himself comfortable on the rather small couch, he is hit by yet another memory.
He had wanted to do something nice for his boyfriend. Tharn had been stressed all week because of his finals. He had completely neglected his health in the process, barely remembering to take his meals. Type thought he would surprise his hard-working boyfriend with breakfast in bed.
The Sunday after the finals week, Type had woken extra early to make a simple but delicious (he was hoping) meal of pancakes with maple syrup.
You would think it is impossible to ruin pancakes. Wrong. Type managed just that and quite spectacularly too. In all honesty, knowing his long history of being completely incompetent when it came to doing domestic work, he had anticipated some kind of disaster happening. Which is why he had prepared the alternate to good food, well in advance.
To be fair, it didn’t need much “preparing”. His boyfriend was very easily satisfied and Type is too mean not to take advantage of that. He had taken a few minutes to settle the disaster breakfast as prettily as he could onto the plate. After seeing that he could do absolutely nothing to improve the situation, he moved on to plan B.
He tiptoed into the bedroom where his boyfriend was still sleeping like a log. Resisting the urge to kiss him, he set about trying to choose a perfect shirt. Fifteen minutes later, he had Tharn's largest T-shirt on, paired with the tiniest pair of shorts Type owns.
He checked himself in the bathroom mirror. And he had to admit, he looked….sexy.
The shirt was so large, it reached the middle of his thighs. His shorts were, well, short. They were barely visible under the shirt but when he turned around and stood on tiptoes, he could see they made his ass look good. He nodded to himself. This will have to do for now.
He made his way into the kitchen, taking a deep breath and adjusting the tray with the pancakes and orange juice. In the bedroom, it took him throwing away the blankets to wake his boyfriend. Tharn was so busy grumbling, he didn’t notice Type’s outfit or even the breakfast prepared for him. Type put the tray on the table next to the bed. He crossed his arms on his chest and cleared his throat to get his whining boyfriend's attention.
When Tharn finally looked at him, his expression was so awe-struck, Type blushed despite himself.
“I made you breakfast”, he said and pointed towards the table.
Tharn didn’t seem to hear him because he was busy ogling him like he would disappear any second. Whatever confidence he had so far, was quickly melting under his boyfriend's heated stare.
Hoping to save himself from embarrassment, Type turned around and started leaving the room. He had made it as far as the couch before Tharn was on him, pressing himself completely against his back.
He shuddered when he felt his boyfriend’s hot breath on his neck. “Where do you think you are going, baby?”
Type cursed himself for allowing the other’s morning voice affect him so much. “To the kitchen, let me go.”
The arms around his waist tighten. “You dress all pretty for me and then try to run away?”
Type could barely come up with a response before he felt Tharn’s hard cock pressing against his back. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me, Type.”
Suddenly, Tharn released him and shifted back. Type turned around to see his boyfriend eyeing the couch curiously.
“Type?”
“Yeah?”
“Bend over the couch.”
Type's knees felt so weak he was afraid he would fall. “What?”
A hand came to to grip his waist. “Bend over, baby. Let me make you feel good.”
And GOD, did he make him feel good. Type was sobbing into the arm rest by the time Tharn was done sucking bruises into his thighs. He felt sensitive all over with Tharn's warm tongue and lips continuously teasing him, biting the sensitive skin and then soothing it with kisses. He was fucked like that too, bent over the couch. His boyfriend had taken his sweet time with him. Going frustratingly slow, to the point that Type screamed. Tharn, that fucker, enjoyed it, of course. He had screamed himself hoarse by the time Tharn was done with him.
The breakfast was not touched for a good couple of hours. And honestly? Type wasn’t complaining.
Type groans as he feels himself getting hard for the second time in the past half an hour.
He knows nothing can save him now. He has to take care of his throbbing dick.
He gets up from the couch and goes to their dressing table. In the second drawer, he finds the strawberry flavour lube he intended to use. He blushes imagining Tharn next to him. His boyfriend had a strange addiction to this flavour. Every time they used this one, he had a hard time keeping his tongue in his mouth. It was a constant struggle between wanting to have his boyfriend's cock in him or enjoying the wonders of the skilful tongue doing sinister things to his body.
He is about to close the drawer when he notices something they hadn’t used in a while. It’s the kitty headband, Tharn's favourite. Before he can overthink it, Type grabs the headband and places it on his head. He walks back to the couch, lube secure in his hand. When he settles down again, he feels weird, lost almost. Dating Tharn meant he never had to bother about orgasms. Tharn gave him plenty to keep his body satisfied.
He frowns. He is a man. He has a dick. He can masturbate. There is no reason to be dependant on the asshole Tharn for his orgasms. He can imagine his boyfriend’s smug reaction if Type called him right now and told him how much he craved his hands and cock in his body.
No. Absolutely not. He can totally orgasm on his own.
He takes a deep breath and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He considers leaving his clothes on but he doesn’t want to risk dirtying them. He makes quick work of the shorts and tank top he was wearing. He is completely naked now. His skin burns and he can’t help how shy he feels. He closes his eyes and leans back till his head is resting on the arm rest. He tries to avoid thinking of Tharn but he is self aware enough to know it’s completely useless.
It happens slowly. First he thinks about his boyfriend's hands. They are so big and warm. The way they hold him by his waist makes him feel like a girl in a Korean Drama. He thinks about the veins lining Tharn's hands. Something about them is so utterly masculine, it makes his cock weep.
Tharn always starts by kissing his lips. He takes his time devouring his mouth, lips so soft and hungry against his own. He moves to his neck next. Sucking and biting the skin until hickeys adorn every inch his mouth can reach. Type's nipples are sensitive and Tharn exploits the fact. There have been times when he has spent hours just playing with them. His lips would close around his nipple and suck till Type was a whining mess.
The brown buds harden as if remembering Tharn and his touch. At this point, Type brings his hand to his nipples. Rubbing them and pinching them in hopes of getting the feeling his boyfriend gives him. It feels nice but it’s not enough. He needs more. He needs Tharn. His frustration increases but he is determined. He slips his hand further until he is holding his cock.
Tharn probably has the warmest, sweetest mouth in Thailand. Type loves having that mouth around him. Teasing him, playing with him like he is nothing but a toy, or as Tharn often says “his kitty”. The feeling of Tharn sucking him until he is dry, he wants that right now. But he can’t and that’s enough to make him whine. He wants his boyfriend so bad. Wants him to suck him, play with him, call him a good boy, fuck him until he can’t walk straight.
“Tharn, please”, he whispers into the air around him. He slips his hand lower, feeling his fluttering hole. His chest feels like it’s on fire because of how much he is blushing. But he can’t stop now, he needs to come so bad.
He halts his actions to take some lube into his hand. He shifts a little before spreading his legs and moving his lubed hand there.
He tries to imagine Tharn there, hovering over him on the couch. His body would feel so big and strong, pressing into him. The kitty ears would drive him wild too. He always fucks rougher when they are involved. More animal like, as if he is trying to mark up Type for the whole world to see. He would grab his hair and force him to look him in the eyes. His hands would dig crescents into his slim waist, unaware of their strength. He would start with one finger, teasing Type until he is begging for more.
Type brings one finger close to his hole and tries to make it feel like Tharn does. It’s impossible. His finger isn’t long enough, isn’t thick enough. He adds another finger and now he wants to scream from frustration. Tharn's fingers feel so good inside him. Reaching his sweet spot so well. Tharn loves rubbing it over and over again, pushing his fingers deep and then taking them back just to see Type beg.
He adds another finger and he feels somewhat full now but it’s nothing compared to his boyfriend’s cock buried in him . Type is always shocked by how big Tharn feels inside him. So thick it feels like he is splitting him open. But Tharn always makes it feel good. The slow drag of his hips into him is just as delicious as when he goes in full force, making both Type and the bed rock.
Type brings his free hand to jerk himself.
He is so lost in pleasure that he cannot stop the string of moans and “please tharn right there” slipping from his mouth. In fact, he is so lost, he doesn’t even notice the apartment door opening or his boyfriend announcing he is back.
He is almost there, almost reached the orgasm, three fingers buried inside himself and hand working relentlessly on his cock, still moaning his boyfriend’s name. He is almost there when a voice breaks through his haze of lust.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here.”
Type jumps in panic. No, he literally jumps.
His boyfriend is leaning against the bedroom door, expression similar to a child being presented with his Christmas present.
“Tharn…”
“Having fun without me?”
Type gulps and he could act all bitchy but he really, really needs to come. And he needs his boyfriend inside him, smugness be damned.
He makes his eyes big, juts his lips and whines.
“Tharn, need you.”
Tharn, bless him, is quick to act. He has gotten rid of shirt and jeans before he joins his boyfriend on the couch.
A hand comes up to wipe at a tear drop on Type's cheek. “Aww, poor kitty can’t make himself come, huh? Need me for that, don’t you?”
Type is too far gone to argue. He presses his face into his boyfriend’s hand and nods, pout still intact. “Fuck me, please.”
Tharn hums under his breath, clearly pleased.
"Can’t say no to such a pretty kitty, can I?”
The next moment, Tharn has him in his arms, moving towards the bed. He settles him on the bed, completely naked, body flushed pink.
When Tharn finally takes his place on top of him, Type feels like he can cry from relief. Yes, this is what he needed.
“God, Type, you don’t know what you do to me looking like that.”
Type pulls him closer until their noses are brushing. “Yeah?”
“Yes, fuck, the things I want to do to you. Make you moan my name all night.”
Type whines as a hand sneaks down to hold his cock. Tharn kisses him until he is panting before attaching his lips to his nipples. He sucks on them until Type is thrashing under him, feeling like he can come just from this. But his boyfriend doesn’t stop there. His lips make a slow path from his chest to his tummy, sucking bruises in the way. Tharn looks up at him once, giving him a devilish smirk before taking his cock in his mouth. Type groans over and over because of his boyfriend’s warm tongue playing with him, making him go crazy.
Soon enough a finger is probing at his entrance. Tharn cocks an eyebrow at him.
“You are so loose, made yourself ready for my cock?”
Type nods in reply, no words left in his brain. Tharn makes it quick work with his fingers. Stretching Type in a way only he knows how to. Type is on the verge of sobbing now, nails scratching at Tharn's biceps.
“Fuck me, now.”
Tharn doesn’t need to be told twice. He lubes himself and enters Type in one slow thrust.
And this. This is what Type had been craving. He feels so full and warm he could actually pass out. But Tharn sets into action quickly. His thrusts are rough and fast. Type knows his boyfriend is just as desperate for release now as he is. He finds his sweet spot and nails into him till the bed squeaks in fear. “yes yes right there Tharn”
His boyfriend doesn’t stop and soon enough he feels like he is flying. His orgasm so so close. Tharn’s one hand wraps around his cock again and he starts jerking him in time with his own thrusts. The stimulation is too much and Type finally comes. His boyfriend follows soon after, groaning into his neck.
It takes them a few minutes to come down from their high. Type is still panting, trying to catch his breath when he feels Tharn adjusting beside him. He looks over to see his boyfriend grinning like a maniac.
“What are you smiling at?”
Tharn shifts closer and brings his face down to ghost over Type's cheek. “So, round two?”
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”