Work Text:
It starts before Prapai’s first meeting of the day even ends. His cellphone vibrates in his pocket and Prapai knows he shouldn’t check it when the accountant is droning on about profit margins and he hasn’t had enough coffee to keep his eyes from drifting shut. But it could be a client or at least someone infinitely more interesting than Anong and his rundown of quarter-over-quarter earnings.
Prapai smiles at Sky’s name on the screen--it’s barely been two hours since he left Sky at the apartment, snuggled deep under the covers, not even opening his eyes when Prapai had pressed a goodbye kiss to his forehead even though he knew Sky had been awake.
Anong is still talking about income fluctuations as Prapai’s eyes go wide as he opens Sky’s message.
Thinking about you inside me, it reads and Prapai’s eyes are immediately drawn to the photo below it.
Sky’s back, bare, facing the bathroom mirror, twisted around to take the picture. Prapai’s eyes graze down the gentle curve of Sky’s back, the way his waist narrows slightly, and the countertop blocks the rise of Sky’s ass from view. It’s soft, almost secret, the way he can see Sky’s chin tilted back, face cut off from the rest of the photo, long fingers wrapped around his stomach as he twists to take the photo.
I’m in a meeting!! he sends back as his heart taps loudly in his chest. Sky has never sent anything like that before, not even when Prapai has been away for work and asked, dared Sky to send him something to tide him over.
He can’t even fathom what would make Sky send this, doesn’t really care as he lingers on the taper of Sky’s waist, the freckle above his hip. He likes it, though, a lot. And maybe wishes Sky hadn’t sent it right now when he hears his name, sharp in his father’s mouth.
“Prapai.”
Prapai’s head snaps up to everyone at the table looking at him.
“Client,” he lies, waving the phone as if it’s evidence before setting it down on the table. He’s glad when everyone’s eyes shift back to Anong and his presentation. But his mind doesn’t return to the spreadsheet filled with numbers in front of him, lingering on the image of Sky in the mirror, the bend of his body, the softness of his skin in the warm bathroom lighting.
He’s certainly not complaining about Sky sending it, just wishing he hadn’t been in a meeting surrounded by his stuffy coworkers, somewhere he could send something other than pure shock at receiving it. For now, though, he has to keep his phone face down and not think about why Sky chose today torture him.
He spends the next half hour willing the phone to vibrate with some kind of explanation, but it doesn’t.
Sky doesn’t answer Prapai’s hasty text, even when Prapai immediately checks the second he’s out of the meeting. It’s just the photo sitting in his messages and he can’t let himself look too long or he’ll never get anything done today.
“Don’t forget you’ve got that lunch with Mr. Kowit,” Namtan says as she shepherds him into his office, setting down a stack of papers to be reviewed, marking things off her list as she goes, like Prapai needs a caretaker. “Then the two ‘o clock meeting with the Shanghai Group--remember last time it didn’t go so well, so please pay attention.”
Prapai lifts his gaze from his phone, unimpressed by her babying. He’s a fully grown adult who can do his job without her help. Well, maybe not without her help since she keeps track of his schedule, but at least without the unnecessary advice on how to handle clients.
He is well-aware that the entire day is packed with meetings, had said as much to Sky last night over dinner, lamenting that he wouldn’t be home until late.
He practically jumps when his phone vibrates in his hand, knowing Namtan’s sigh is one of forced patience as he looks.
His eyes go immediately to the photo, Sky’s bare chest visible in the ornate mirror in the bedroom, from the waist up, neck stretched back, baring the long column of his neck. His skin is so deliciously perfect, inviting in a way it shouldn’t be just through a photograph. All the breath leaves Prapai’s body as he finally tears his gaze from the soft glow of Sky’s skin in the morning sun to the message below.
You can mark me up, if you want.
Holy shit, Sky is trying to kill him, Prapai thinks as he stares.
“If that’s Sky,” Namtan says, and Prapai blinks. He’d forgotten she was there. Right. He’s at work and Sky is sending him texts that make him want to skip all his meetings and go find Sky at home and fuck him senseless. “Tell him you have a busy day and can’t be disturbed.”
They both know Prapai is not going to do that, and Namtan can only purse her lips.
“Ten minutes, then it’s the quarterly managers meeting,” she says, pointed, before leaving the office.
Sitting back, Prapai doesn’t have time to dwell on her impatience. He’s going to use those ten minutes for something far better than checking emails.
Biting his lip, he contemplates his keyboard for a minute, eyes drifting up to the picture, the visible rise of Sky’s collarbone, practically begging Prapai to leave a deep purple bruise when he gets the chance. He plans to, can’t stop his mind from wandering to the last time he had Sky laid out underneath him, how Sky had urged him on, whining in his ear, asking for more.
You utter tease, he types finally as he forces his mind to focus, smiling at the screen. Are you trying to kill me?
There’s no response, no bubble indicating Sky is typing, and Prapai hits the call button instead. It rings. And rings, and rings, until Sky’s voicemail picks up and Prapai is forced to hang up, biting his lip as he stares at the phone. He has to stop looking when Namtan comes in to usher him off to the next meeting.
He barely pays attention the whole next hour, keeps thinking his phone is vibrating, but every time he subtly checks, the screen is empty of notifications aside from emails.
Why isn’t Sky responding? Why is he just sending these irresistible photos, driving Prapai crazy? He can’t stop thinking about it, about what he would do if he had Sky naked in the bathroom, pressed up against the countertop, able to see his hands in the mirror as they slide down Sky’s back. He thinks about what he could do in the bedroom, the cool morning sun falling over Sky’s perfect, unmarred skin, how he could press bruising kisses down Sky’s chest.
It takes every ounce of self control he has to not get hard right at the table, acutely aware of his dad and the other managers sitting in the boardroom. He gets in enough trouble as it is for cutting out early to see Sky all the time, for that time they fucked in the conference room and somehow everyone knew about the security video. The women in the office had spent a whole month giggling every time they saw him and his dad had given him the sternest talking-to he’d ever received, threatening to ban Sky from the office.
Prapai hadn’t told Sky about that. It isn’t something he needs to know, and now, when they fuck, they do it in Prapai’s office, which is blissfully free of cameras.
His phone remains stubbornly still the rest of the morning, much to Prapai’s impatience, mind running through scenarios, all the things he’s going to do to Sky once he gets home. It’s pure torture, knowing Sky is somewhere in their apartment, taking the time to compose these pictures. He knows how careful Sky is about taking suggestive photos, keeping them on his phone, not trusting that they won’t be used against him somehow.
Prapai hasn’t asked, but he suspects it has something to do with Gun, something that would just make Prapai want to beat him again.
He’s not surprised that Sky’s face isn’t in any of them, but it doesn’t change how Prapai feels as he flips back and forth between the two he’s gotten already, the heat pooling in his stomach when he should be concentrating on work.
He doesn’t get another message until halfway through lunch, in the middle of a great story about a screw-up that always makes the clients laugh, and he glances without thinking this time.
He recognizes Sky’s jeans, the barest ruffle of his boxers, an expanse of smooth skin sliding down to where Sky’s hand is pressed into the open zipper, taunting, disappearing into the shadows.
I want you to choke on it.
Prapai does, coughing as the water he’s drinking goes down the wrong way.
“Are you alright?” Mr. Kowit asks, looking concerned as Prapai reaches for his napkin to wipe away any accidental spit.
He shakes his head quickly, trying to regain his composure. “I’m fine. Sorry, I just—“ He doesn’t have an explanation that isn’t, I’ve just got my boyfriend sexting me in the middle of lunch, and there’s nothing I can do about it. He can’t say that.
It isn’t the picture, even though Prapai doesn’t dare look again as he sits there, taking another drink to soothe his throat. It’s the words, Sky’s words, that rattle around his head.
He digs his own fingernails into his thigh as he tries not to picture it, his head in between Sky’s thighs, how good Sky tastes when he lets Prapai suck him off, how he keens into his throat, big enough to choke him, to bring tears to his eyes as he lets Sky, wants him to feel good.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Stay down. he tells himself firmly, taking a breath and trying to focus on the lunch, on his food, on Mr. Kowit changing the subject to business matters.
Sky is doing this on purpose. He knows Prapai has meetings all day, can’t just run home for a quickie. A quickie isn’t going to satisfy Prapai. No, he’s going to need to do everything and more, get his hands and mouth and tongue on every inch of Sky, until he’s writhing and moaning and begging for it. Until he feels like Prapai does right now, in hell as he listens to whatever Mr. Kowit is saying, not absorbing a single word.
He doesn’t know how he makes it through lunch, how he makes it from the restaurant to the office without hailing the first cab he sees and taking it home.
He barely listens to Namtan reviewing the afternoon agenda, the projects he needs to finish, the meetings he has scheduled.
At this point, he’s counting down the hours until he can go home, will do everything in his power to sneak out early if Namtan will let him. And she might considering her frustrated sigh when he nods along unthinkingly.
The next few hours are relatively quiet, which makes Prapai uneasy. What is Sky doing now? Is he planning on sending something unfathomably tempting just to fuck with him? Make him so desperate to leave that he practically jumps out the 20-story window?
Just two more hours and he can leave, Prapai thinks as he gets back to his office and sinks into his chair. He can’t help pulling out his phone, swiping through the photos, zooming in on different aspects, swallowing as his throat goes dry as he focuses on the rise under Sky’s jeans in the last, something he hadn’t noticed before, too busy choking on water.
If Sky’s going to jerk himself off, Prapai wants to be there to help, to watch the way Sky always arches into it, the way his slim fingers look wrapped around his dick, so absolutely gorgeous and sexy.
It’s not fair that he can’t rush home right at this very moment, would probably be physically stopped by Namtan if he tried. The clock on the wall mocks him instead—one more meeting to go.
He almost grimaces when his phone vibrates in his pocket, not wanting to pull it out and see whatever dirty, seductive thing Sky has sent him this time when he knows Prapai can’t do anything about it.
There’s no photo this time, just a line of text, and Prapai groans as he reads it.
Need your thighs wrapped around me.
What are you doing? he types, desperate, not expecting a response since he hasn’t gotten one all day, and it almost shocks him when a message appears not two seconds later.
Thinking about how good your cock feels when it fills me up.
Prapai has to put the phone down, squeeze his eyes shut as his dick twitches in his slacks. God, he wants it. He wants Sky underneath him, Sky on top of him, wants to get his hands on every inch of skin.
He’s not going to make it through this last meeting of the day, wound up tight, and he picks up the phone to read the message again. Sky’s words are so plain, so brazen, perfectly blunt in a way that’s meant to drive Prapai crazy.
If he’s not careful, he’s going to get hard just thinking about it, about what he’s going to do to Sky the minute he steps through that door. He imagines Sky waiting for him, naked, draped across their plush bed, waiting for him.
Shaking away the thought, he can’t think about it right now. He can’t.
He’s almost glad when Namtan sends him a reminder to head to the meeting. He can’t spend the next hour thinking about Sky or he’ll pop a boner in front of a client.
He almost makes it, forty-five minutes into the meeting, remembering everything he’s supposed to say, being charming and friendly and persuasive. He’s nodding along attentively when it happens—his phone vibrates where it sits face down on the table. His stomach lurches and his eyes shoot to it. He can’t—he shouldn’t. Whatever it is, it’s not going to be good for him if he looks.
Curling his fingers into his palm, his nails dig in, and he chews on his bottom lip. The phone vibrates with a reminder that he hasn’t looked yet. He doesn’t realize how tense he is until someone in the meeting laughs and Prapai jumps slightly, feeling the ache in his shoulders.
Sliding the phone off the table, he doesn’t turn it over, clutching it in his fist instead. He glances at the clock, the minutes ticking by agonizingly slowly. Was the battery dying and that’s why it was moving so slowly? Or had time simply slowed to molasses-like speed?
Prapai can’t be charming with his mind so distracted, barely manages to smile at the right places now, offer what little he can to the meeting when his whole being is somewhere else entirely.
The phone is heavy in his hand, and his knee jiggles impatiently as the conversation drags on. He has to get out of this meeting, has to get out of this office.
“Excuse me,” he says abruptly, scooting back his chair as all eyes turn to him. “I have to get this.” He waves the phone even though it’s not making any noise. No one gives him a second glance, though, as he slips out of the room.
Prapai doesn’t look until he’s safely back in his office, already grabbing his jacket, checking he has his keys.
There’s no message this time, just an image that makes Prapai groan as he opens it.
He doesn’t even know how Sky took this picture, the camera situated at the end of the bed, in between his open legs, a clear view of his thighs, his black underwear. Prapai’s eyes travel up Sky’s bare chest, the way he’s got his hands on the top of the headboard, chin tilted back, face hidden from the camera.
That’s it. Prapai can’t pretend to work any more. He needs to get home and rail his boyfriend before he goes completely insane.
Namtan doesn’t even try to stop him when he tells her he’s leaving early, not going back to the meeting. She’s probably glad he’s stayed this long.
On the drive home, he lets his mind run wild with all the scenarios he could find when he gets home. Sky on the bed, naked, jerking himself off, Sky waiting for Prapai, prepped and ready, greeting him at the door with a searing kiss and dragging him inside.
Prapai’s cock twitches, swelling even as he drives, barely paying attention to the blur of other cars. He only has one thing on his mind and it’s not the rules of the road.
The elevator takes far too long as Prapai watches the numbers go up, tapping his fingers impatiently on his hip. He’s going to take Sky wherever he’ll let him—whether that’s the plush bed, the sleek leather couches, on top of the kitchen counter. He doesn’t care.
He finally makes it to the apartment, pushing open the front door, jacket in hand, shoes kicked off without much grace. He doesn’t call out for Sky, sure he’ll find him somewhere, hopefully in a compromising position.
He’s halfway to the bedroom when he notices Sky in the living room, sitting on the couch. He can only see the back of his head, bowed slightly as if maybe he’s reading. Curious, Prapai adjusts course, coming up behind Sky, surprised to find him fully clothed, sitting with his legs crossed, a textbook in his lap.
Unaffected, he slides his hands over Sky’s shoulders, down his pecs as he leans into his neck.
“Hey,” Sky greets him, far too casually, and Prapai kisses his neck, noting the way Sky doesn’t react. “You’re home early.”
“And whose fault is that?” Prapai asks, tasting the patch of skin underneath Sky’s ear that usually makes him twitch, but he doesn’t, far too calm, like he hasn’t spent all day sending Prapai dirty texts.
“Whose?” Sky asks, and Prapai blinks.
“Yours, you little tease,” he replies, reaching for Sky’s chin, tilting his head to face him. Sky’s expression betrays nothing as he furrows his eyebrows.
“What are you talking about, P’Pai?”
Prapai stares, dumbfounded, as Sky slips out of his fingers, tossing the textbook aside and heading for the kitchen. Is this some new kind of game that Prapai hasn’t cottoned onto yet? He follows Sky, watching him pull a bottle of water out of the fridge, set it on the counter.
“I’m talking about those pictures you’ve been sending all day,” he says, coming up beside Sky. Sky doesn’t reply, like maybe he doesn’t remember. Prapai is having a hard time forgetting, and he slips in behind Sky instead, hands covering his where they rest on the counter, aligning every inch of their bodies together, breathing deep at the way Sky’s ass fits right against his hips, his swelling cock. He feels Sky adjust, just a tiny bit, just enough that he knows he hasn’t hallucinated it all. “Or have you forgotten?”
Sky doesn’t reply for a minute, pulling his hand from underneath Prapai’s to open the water bottle. He doesn’t try to move from where he’s trapped against the counter.
“Maybe you should remind me,” Sky says finally, tilting his head back slightly, catching Prapai’s gaze, something amused there, as if he’s enjoying this, teasing Prapai, pretending he has no idea why Prapai is already hard walking through the door.
“First of all,” Prapai says, breathing in the soft scent of soap on Sky’s neck, thrusting gently against him, heat pooling in his stomach at the press of Sky’s ass, fingers edging under the hem of his soft, white sweater, “you’re wearing way too many clothes.”
“I’m comfortable,” Sky says, leaning into Prapai’s mouth, a teasing graze of his jaw against his lips.
Prapai is easily distracted when Sky twists around where he’s pressed to the counter, turns to face Prapai, hands around his waist tugging him closer. Prapai’s hands land on the counter now, behind Sky, leaning into Sky’s stomach.
Licking his lips, Prapai’s gaze flicks down, down Sky’s chest, his soft white sweater, to his jeans, his crotch. He can’t feel Sky getting hard yet, but it won’t be long. He’s thinking of the photograph, the first one, of Sky’s back in the mirror, how good his hands would look digging into Sky’s flesh as he took him from behind.
“I could put my hand down your jeans,” Prapai breathes, leaning into Sky even as he leans back, just out of reach of his lips, “see if that jogs your memory.”
Reaching for Sky, he slides his fingers along the hem of his sweater, grazing over Sky’s soft skin underneath. He feels Sky’s stomach jerk, sensitive at the light touch. Sky can pretend all he wants, but Prapai has proof, photographs he’s going to save so he can look at them whenever he wants.
He catches Sky licking his lips, eyes on his hand, watching.
Hooking his fingers into Sky’s jeans, Prapai pauses, glancing up. He doesn’t pull the button apart even though he wants to. God, he wants to so badly. He wants to act out everything Sky suggested in his texts, and that starts with getting him out of these pants and on a horizontal surface.
Widening his eyes, he tilts his head to the side, knowing Sky is enjoying this. He’s been enjoying it all day, knowing Prapai had to suffer his suggestive texts. Prapai isn’t sure how much more he can take now that he’s finally got Sky underneath him, so hard as he pushes into Sky’s thigh, hopeful as Sky meets his gaze.
Sky’s hands come to Prapai’s cheeks, thumbs stroking gently, and Prapai lets out a breath, and there’s a smirk at the edge of his mouth that makes Prapai’s heart beat faster.
“Were you good today?” Sky asks, lifting a leg to bracket Prapai’s hip, heel skating down the back of his leg. Prapai swallows as he feels his skin growing warmer under Sky’s hands. “Or did you touch yourself when you got those photos?”
“I didn’t,” Prapai assures him, perhaps a little too swiftly as Sky’s smile widens and he bites it back.
Sky pauses, eyelashes flicking up, and Prapai can’t get swept up in how pretty Sky is this close, how his eyes catch the light, thinking how much he wants to kiss him, has wanted to all day. He wants to do much more than just kiss him, but it would be a start. It would be something in between how turned on he already is, how he can’t seem to get Sky to agree.
“Should I believe you?” Sky asks, the back of his fingernails grazing up Prapai’s cheek to sweep through his hair.
Prapai doesn’t think Sky can tease much more as he groans, holding onto the waist of his jeans. Instead, he rocks his erection into Sky’s thigh, riding the high even that small amount of contact gets him, knowing Sky likes it as his eyes go soft, flutter shut.
“I’ll prove it to you,” Prapai says, reaching down, surprising Sky as he grabs the backs of his thighs and hauls him up onto the island counter. Sky’s legs instinctively brace his sides as he’s lifted, fingers tightening in Prapai’s hair.
He smiles at Sky’s gasp in his ear, doesn’t waste any time capturing Sky’s mouth in a hard, bruising kiss, chasing the slide of his tongue as he manhandles Sky back, crowding in between his legs. Sky’s lips are hot, just as hungry as Prapai gets his hands on Sky’s jeans, tugging them open, yanking them down.
Sky sucks in a breath as his bare skin hits the cold granite and Prapai shoves his jeans to the floor. The expanse of his thighs is too tempting to resist as Prapai pulls Sky’s legs up on either side of his head, lavishing attention, biting, sucking as Sky makes delicious noises above him.
Sky’s hand curls in his hair, tugging, pulling, urging him on. He hasn’t even touched Sky’s dick, looking so enticing as he slides his tongue over the warm, soft skin of Sky’s inner thigh. He can tease Sky right back, take too much time leaving a deep red mark on his thigh, slides his hands up Sky’s stomach, underneath his sweater, digging his fingernails into Sky’s pecs.
He doesn’t want to take too long, can’t really when he already feels like he’s about to burst, balls blue from waiting all day for this.
Turning his attention to Sky’s cock, he leaves his thigh, soothes the teeth marks left behind, presses kisses up his leg, pulls Sky down on the counter. He spits in his hand before reaching for Sky, dragging his palm against the heated skin of his dick, stroking him slowly.
Sky doesn’t make a noise except to suck in a breath, biting down on his bottom lip and bringing his knees up to bracket Prapai’s head as Prapai leans down, trails his tongue after his hand, up to the tip.
He takes Sky in one swift movement, holding it on his tongue until he has to pull back to breathe. He loves the way Sky tastes, bitter, the musk of his skin the only thing Prapai can smell as he moves, sucks, slides up and down as Sky’s cock fills his mouth.
It had taken a while for Sky to let him, so sure Prapai was only offering to be polite, didn’t actually want to suck him off. But Prapai loves it, loves knowing he can make Sky moan like that with just his tongue, make him feel good. He hadn’t wanted to before, with other people, not really interested, but with Sky, he wants to do everything he can to make sure it’s as good for him as it is for Prapai. He’s surprised by how much he likes it, how much he likes when Sky pushes into his mouth, too fast, too deep, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he tries to swallow.
He can feel the squeeze of Sky’s thighs on either side of his ears, Sky’s fingers pulling at his hair, almost painful, just hard enough to make his cock quiver, so into it. His own hands hold onto Sky’s hips as his cock slides from his mouth, wet and slick with spit, hot as he mouths along the ridges, sucks the velvet skin of his balls into his mouth.
I want you to choke on it.
Sky’s message comes back to him and he pulls Sky’s dick back, licks up the length, swallows him down as Sky pants above him. Sky isn’t teasing anymore, pulling at Prapai’s hair, thrusting into his throat. He has to let go of Sky’s waist, reach down to his trousers and squeeze his cock to calm himself. This isn’t going to be over so soon, even if he could come if he just got enough friction.
Prapai buries himself between Sky’s thighs, sliding his hand up the back, pushing his hips back. He keeps Sky’s cock in his mouth, tonguing over the slit, tasting Sky as he throbs against his lips. He wouldn’t be able to last if it was him, if he had Sky sucking him off, the hot suction on his dick pure torture as he tried to hold back, the image of Sky with his beautiful amber eyes looking up at him, his pink lips stretched over his cock, slick with spit and come.
Sky’s sharp tug on his hair brings Prapai back to reality as his imagination starts to run away, get distracted by the idea of Sky on his knees. Sky makes a noise, halfway between a moan and a protest as he untwines his fingers from Prapai’s hair to shove at his shoulders.
“P’Pai,” he whines, that sound that goes right to Prapai’s dick. “Stop, stop.”
Pulling away, Prapai glances up, wipes his mouth as he catches Sky’s glazed look. He blinks, moving up, pressing a kiss to Sky’s stomach instead.
“Okay, baby?” he asks, sliding his hand up Sky’s cock, squeezing gently.
“Don’t want to come yet,” Sky says, breathes out the words as his fingers land on the back of Prapai’s neck. He looks debauched as Prapai looks up, his cheeks pink, lips bitten and red.
“Yeah?” Prapai asks as the thrill rolls through his stomach, licking his lips, unable to stop himself from leaving a gentle kiss against the peak of Sky’s hip, not willing to give up the contact between them. “How do you want to come?”
Sky just whines in response, biting at his lip as he pushes himself up, drags Prapai to his mouth. Prapai isn’t going to push for an answer, not when he finally has Sky’s legs wrapped around him, his tongue in his mouth, sucking at his bottom lip. He’s waited all day for this, to get his hands on Sky, wrapped around his waist as he pulls him off the counter.
Sliding down, he gets his hands on Sky’s ass, grabbing a handful as he hoists him into his arms. Sky’s arms wrap around neck instinctively, tilting his head to lick deeper in his mouth as Prapai tries to move, to stumble back towards the bedroom, or at least a soft, horizontal surface.
The condo is big enough that it takes a minute to get across the living room, and Prapai tightens his fingers as Sky starts to slip, hauling him up for a better grip. Sky’s mouth heads for his neck in response, sliding down his jaw, sucking a mark where everyone will see.
He stumbles into the bedroom, distracted by Sky’s tongue sliding down his throat, sucking at his pulse point as the blood throbs in his veins. He drops Sky to the bed, the rich blue silk bedspread engulfing him for a second before fanning out.
Pulling at the buttons on his shirt, Prapai gets them apart too slowly, dragging the shirt off as Sky yanks his sweater over his head, leaving him naked on the bed.
Prapai barely has the patience to get his pants off, left in a pile to wrinkle.
Sky’s body opens for him as he climbs on the bed, welcoming him between his legs, fingers wrapping so elegantly around the back of his neck as he pulls him down, bites at his lips, mouth open for Prapai’s tongue to slide inside.
Heat wells in Prapai’s chest as he kisses Sky back, eyes closed, drinking in the swell of Sky’s body into his own, the hot press of his skin, a leg hooking around his thigh. His hips rut forward on their own accord, cock to cock, a sharp jolt as Prapai groans. He needs to feel Sky, wants his hands on every inch of him, pushing and pulling, taking and giving.
It always makes him feel good when Sky’s body reacts, when Sky’s fingernails dig into his shoulders, breaking the kiss to hiss at the slide of their dicks together. There’s not enough friction, too dry as Prapai reaches, takes them both in his palm and strokes.
It’s too tempting, the stretch of Sky’s throat, unblemished, right under his mouth, begging to be marked up. He isn’t surprised when Sky whines the minute his lips slide along the column of his throat, teeth grazing, gentle, testing, worrying the skin until it’s red and angry.
He leaves bruises behind, sucks until Sky’s fingernail cut into his shoulders and he arches into him, half in attempt to stop him. Prapai bites his lip, taking a deep breath of Sky’s skin, musk and soap and sweat.
“P’Pai,” Sky whines in that way that makes Prapai’s cock twitch, hard against Sky’s, throbbing when Sky’s fingers slide to the back of his neck and guide him down, away from the blossoming bruises on his neck.
He needs lube, he thinks, desperate, lips trailing down Sky’s collarbone, needs to get his fingers inside Sky to work him open.
Sky’s already loose, legs spread beneath him, a heel hooked behind his thigh that presses in when Prapai sucks at his chest, above the soft, red peak of his nipple, a hint of teeth, soothes with his tongue.
He wonders if Sky has prepared at all, if he spent all day taking teasing pictures and fingering himself open thinking of Prapai coming home to ravish him? The thought makes him harder, if that’s humanly possible, blood pulsing in his dick as he pulls away, sharp, folding Sky in half to reach over for the lube sitting on the table. He doesn’t remember if he left it there, if maybe Sky pulled it out in preparation for this moment. He doesn’t care right now, squeezing the lube onto Sky’s cock, still pressed with his, burning, throbbing.
Sky arches into his touch, a satisfied breath that only makes the tension twine tighter in Prapai’s chest. Shifting, he fists their cocks together, a heated drag, slick with lube now, rubbing deliciously slow.
Leaning forward, he pulls Sky’s leg wider with his free hand, guides it around his waist, digs his fingernails into Sky’s warm thigh.
“You want me to do everything you said?” he asks, biting at Sky’s stomach, the soft flesh of his belly, breathing out a hot breath that makes Sky shiver. Or maybe it’s his words that make Sky bite his lip, groan softly, reaching for Prapai’s hair again.
“P’Pai,” Sky says again, keening into his mouth, eyes half-lidded as he gazes down, fingers brushing Prapai’s hair from his forehead so he can see his eyes as Prapai glances up. “Fuck me already.”
Prapai has never been accused of being patient, and now’s no different.
He releases Sky’s dick, needs his lube-slicked fingers to press inside him, drag Sky open as he moans above him, tries to work himself down, harder and faster, fucking himself.
And it’s so fucking hot.
Prapai grabs Sky’s leg as he adds a second finger, mouthing down the soft flesh of his inner thigh, leaving another mark where no one but him will see, lavishing attention wherever he can reach, until Sky is whining, making that noise that means he’s growing impatient, wants Prapai to stop taking so long.
Scooting in, Prapai takes a second to roll on a condom, doesn’t hesitate to slide inside as Sky bites back a gasp. Prapai closes his eyes at the heat enveloping him as he presses Sky to the mattress, pulling Sky’s mouth to his for a dizzying kiss as he fucks him, hard and fast.
Sky’s legs twine around him, heels digging into his back as Prapai moves, thrusts in deep and long, building up the heat between them, wanting to make this last even though he’s going to come apart at any moment.
He wants Sky to feel it all—the biting kisses, the stretch of his dick inside him, the throb as he grits his teeth, tries not to come after just a few strokes. He’s been on edge all day, just waiting for this moment, for the moment he could gets his hands on Sky, pull him up into his lap, thrust sharply into him and watch the way Sky’s face goes slack, pure pleasure washing over him, as if only Prapai can do this for him.
Sky rides him as they readjust on the bed, as Prapai maneuvers him on top, anchors his hands at the curve of Sky’s waist. Sky’s hands clench on Prapai’s shoulders as he grinds his hips down, so good at knowing what he wants and how Prapai can give it to him.
It reminds Prapai of the first time as his eyes graze down Sky’s body, the pretty flush on his collarbone, the red spots on his chest, fading teeth marks on his stomach, his hard cock bobbing against his stomach. But it’s nothing like that first time when Sky opens his eyes, a smile appearing seconds before he leans in to kiss Prapai, swallowing Prapai’s groan as his stomach clenches, tight, dick hot and pulsing inside the velvet heat of Sky’s body.
Sky’s hands slide to Prapai’s thighs, digging in as he moves, undulates against him, so hot that it takes all of Prapai’s brain power not to come right then.
He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, can feel the heat pooling in his stomach, thighs tense as he thrusts into Sky, glides his hands up Sky’s back, pressing into his shoulder blades.
Leaning forward, he presses a gentle kiss to Sky’s chest, stretches down to reach Sky’s cock tight against his stomach. It’s not as easy as he’d hoped, but he can get his mouth around the tip, licks as Sky lets out a sound that’s something between a sigh and a whine, high-pitched and ringing in Prapai’s ears.
He needs his hand, he decides, pulling back before he gets a crick in his neck, keeping one on Sky’s back, the other moving around to grip him and pull, matching the rhythmic roll of Sky’s hips, punctuated with a squeeze at the base when Sky licks his lips, hot breath against Prapai’s open mouth.
Prapai comes before Sky does, a sucked-in breath, burst of tension in his chest as his hips stutter, push in deeply and stay there as he comes. Heat rushes over his body, face flushed, a sheen of sweat along his hairline as he holds himself inside Sky as his climax takes him over.
Dazed, he can only press his face to Sky’s neck, holding him against his chest, feeling Sky’s heart beating against his own. It’s racing, Sky’s heart, and Prapai knows he’s still hard. He can feel it, keeps Sky trapped for a second as he comes down, arms tight around his back.
Before Sky can complain, Prapai has him on his back, taking Sky’s dick in his mouth in one swift movement. It must catch Sky off-guard because he seems to choke as his head hits the mattress.
He wants Sky to come, to taste him, the hold his hips down as he does, swallow him down.
“Fuck, P’Pai,” Sky gasps, pushing his hips up, and Prapai feels the twitch on his tongue, doesn’t waste time to tease.
Sky doesn’t even warn him, and Prapai doesn’t need him to as Sky takes a sharp breath and comes, hot and sticky and bitter on his tongue.
Licking his lips, Prapai pulls away, wiping away the come on his chin, gazing up at Sky, spread out underneath him. Sky has his eyes closed, chest moving quickly as he breathes, completely undone in a way that makes Prapai satisfied.
He crawls up, limbs loose as he curls up next to Sky, reaching for his mussed hair and pushing it aside. Sky opens his eyes after a second, catching Prapai watching him and smiling.
“You know you can’t send me those pictures when I have meetings,” Prapai says, only partially serious.
Sky blinks, fingers coming to Prapai’s cheek as he twists onto his side to face him on the sheets. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rolling his eyes, Prapai can’t help smiling, pulling Sky’s lips to his. “Tease,” he murmurs into his mouth, and Sky’s lips curve into a smile in between kisses.
“Your tease,” he corrects, and Prapai can’t even argue. He doesn’t want to. The next time Sky sends texts like those, maybe he’ll ignore them.
Who’s he kidding, he thinks, grabbing Sky around the waist and hauling him closer as Sky laughs. He can’t wait for next time.
*
FIN.