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The roar of thousands of VAVAs didn’t simply end when the heavy crimson velvet stage curtains swung shut at the Broadway Theatre; it lingered as a low, relentless vibration in the soles of their feet and the marrow of their bones.
Outside the green room, fans were already flooding X (Twitter) and TikTok. The event’s hashtag, #TTPfmMacau2026, had shot straight to number one globally within minutes of the final bows. HD preview shots and low-quality, high-octane stage clips were blowing up timelines at an alarming rate.
On stage, Tee had worn an elegant, tailored black long-sleeve blazer that clung tightly across his broad shoulders and arms every time he danced, leaving just enough to the imagination to make fans lose their minds. Meanwhile, Por’s outfit—a pair of high-waisted, pitch-black trousers cut from a heavy stretch-crepe fabric—hugged the sharp, dramatic dip of his lower back before accentuating the full, round curve of his hips and rear.
Every time Por executed a sharp hip isolation during the fan meet, the auditorium had sounded as though the roof was being torn off.
Now, safe inside the penthouse suite on the thirty-fourth floor, the heavy wooden door swung shut behind them, locking out the management, the staff, and the noise.
The space instantly shrunk the moment Tee tossed his room key onto the entryway table. Hot, exhausted, and buzzing with post-performance adrenaline, Tee unbuttoned his formal long-sleeve event jacket, tore it off, and tossed it casually onto a chair.
He was left in a thin, charcoal-grey compression tank top that left his shoulders, chest, and heavy arms completely bare. Sweat glinted on his collarbones, his skin radiating intense body heat.
Por stood near the edge of the plush king-sized bed, his own jacket already discarded, though his stage trousers remained firmly in place.
Por collapsed face-first into the velvet cushions, his phone already out as he tapped into X. A breathless, disbelieving laugh escaped his lips.
"Tee," Por called out, rolling onto his side. The movement pulled his tailored trousers impossibly tight across his rear, showcasing every lethal curve. "You need to look at this. The timeline is completely in shambles."
Tee walked over from the bar with a bottle of water, rolling his broad shoulders back. "What are they saying?"
"Half the fandom is uploading zoomed-in slow-motion edits of your long sleeves straining against your arms during the dance break," Por read aloud, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he scrolled through thousands of posts. "They’re literally begging you to wear short sleeves next time because the fabric was fighting for its life.
Look at this tweet: 'Tee's shoulders inside that long-sleeve jacket should be illegal in Macau.'"
Tee set his water bottle down on the bedside table with a soft thud. A slow, dark grin spread across his lips as he looked down at Por. "Is that right? And what about you?"
Por’s smile turned distinctly smug as he swiped through another trending topic. "Oh, the other half of the timeline is doing deep-dive mathematical analysis on my rear angle from the side stage. They're calling my outfit a lethal weapon, Tee. Look at this TikTok—it already has two hundred thousand views."
"A lethal weapon, huh?" Tee murmured, stepping into the space between Por's legs as Por sat up on the edge of the bed.
The lighthearted social media talk vanished, replaced by a sudden, heavy pressure that made the large suite feel remarkably small. Por’s phone slid harmlessly onto the mattress.
Por reached out, his trembling fingers wrapping around Tee's bare right bicep. He traced the hard line where Tee's shoulder carved into his arm, feeling the rock-hard density of the muscle beneath warm skin.
"You're so distracting," Por whispered, his thumb stroking the thick vein running down Tee’s inner arm. "I was on stage trying to focus, and all I could see out of the corner of my eye was your broad frame filling out that suit. You've gotten way too big, Tee."
Tee’s hands—massive, heavy, and hot—landed squarely on Por’s hips, sliding downward to cup the full, round curves of Por’s rear over those tight trousers. He squeezed firmly, pulling Por flush against him until there was zero daylight left between their bodies.
"You want to talk about distracting?" Tee growled, his head dipping down until his lips brushed the shell of Por's ear. "I had to stand behind you on that stage for two hours, watching everyone gawking at you in these pants... forced to keep my hands to myself while thousands of people cheered."
Tee flexed his grip, digging his fingers into the dense, soft flesh through the fitted fabric. "Do you have any idea how hard it was not to drag you backstage right then?"
"Show me then," Por breathed, his hands sliding up Tee's arms to clasp around his neck. "Show me what you wanted to do."
Tee’s mouth claimed Por’s in a kiss that was the explosive release of hours spent bottling up desire under blinding stage lights. Por let out a low, whimpering groan into Tee’s mouth, his arms wrapping tightly around Tee’s neck, pulling himself up. He parted his lips instantly, inviting Tee in, tasting the sweet, intoxicatingly familiar warmth that was purely Por.
Tee pressed Por backward, step by sharp step, until the backs of Por’s knees hit the edge of the massive king-sized bed. Without breaking the kiss, Tee used his weight to push Por down onto the mattress, hovering over him like a storm cloud.
The bed sank under their combined weight. Tee propped himself up on his left forearm, the position forcing his bicep to bulge to its absolute peak, veins standing out in sharp relief under the warm glow of the bedside lamp.
P’Por’s hands couldn't keep still. Even mid-kiss, his fingers mapped every inch of Tee’s bare upper body—kneading the thick muscle of his chest, sliding over his ribs, and gripping Tee's flexed bicep with pure, unadulterated obsession.
"You're so heavy," Por whispered against Tee’s skin as Tee’s weight pressed him down. "I love how big you are now, Tee... I feel so small under you."
"Good," Tee grunted. His right hand reached down to the waistband of Por’s trousers, popping the metal button and dragging the long zipper down.
Tee slid his broad hands straight inside the gaping fabric, sliding his palms directly over the smooth skin of Por’s lower back, pushing down until he cupped Por’s bare rear beneath his briefs.
Por arched his back off the bed with a sharp, ragged gasp, his head falling back into the pillows. "Tee—ah!"
Tee’s grip was unyielding. He lifted Por’s hips, pulling him flush against his lap as Tee sat back on his knees. He stripped the ruined stage trousers off completely, tossing them to the floor and leaving Por exposed in nothing but his dark briefs and unbuttoned shirt.
Tee hooked his fingers into the waistband of Por’s briefs, pulling them down to expose the full curve he had been obsessing over all afternoon. Leaning down, Tee laid a trail of open-mouthed, searing kisses along the dip of Por’s hip, moving lower until his teeth lightly nipped the full flesh of Por’s rear.
Por let out a high, sweet cry, his hands clutching tightly at the bedsheets. "Tee—oh god, Tee!"
Tee tore his own compression tank off, casting it aside. Bare-chested, his body gleaming under the low lights, Tee moved over Por, settling his full weight onto Por’s back.
Tee’s massive chest flattened against Por’s back, his broad shoulders pinning Por beneath him, while his hands reached around to hold Por’s waist firmly in place.
Tee's hand slid down to prepare Por with slow, deliberate care, his fingers warm and slick as he worked to open Por up.
"You're mine tonight," Tee whispered into Por’s ear. "No cameras. No trending tags. Just me."
"Always you," Por choked out, pressing his hips back against Tee’s hand, pleading for more. "It's always been you, Tee... hurry, please..."
Tee aligned himself at Por’s entrance. With a slow, heavy thrust, Tee pushed inside, filling Por completely.
Por’s back arched violently, a long, shattered moan escaping his throat into the quiet luxury of the suite. He squeezed his eyes shut, his hands reaching back blind to grip Tee’s flexed biceps until his knuckles turned white, feeling the massive width of Tee stretching him.
The rhythmic creak of the heavy oak bed frame began to echo off the glass windows, punctuated only by the wet, breathless impact of their skin and the harsh, uneven drag of their lungs.
Tee’s hands clamped around Por’s waist like iron vices, holding him pinned as he drove forward in deep, unyielding thrusts. Every strike reached deep inside, sending violent waves of pleasure crashing through Por’s spine until his entire body was trembling, slick with sweat.
"Tee—ah! Slow—slow down, please—" Por gasped into the pillow, his knuckles white where his hands were clutching the tangled sheets.
"Slow down?" Tee’s voice was a low, guttural rasp right against Por’s ear. He didn't slow his pace; instead, he snapped his hips forward with deliberate, punishing precision, making Por let out a high, helpless whimper. "You were the one begging me to hurry a minute ago."
"Because you're—nggh—you're too big," Por choked out, his head rolling to the side. His eyes were heavy-lidded, glazed with tears of sheer sensation. Even in the haze of overwhelming friction, Por’s gaze locked back onto Tee’s propped-up arm.
The sight of Tee’s bicep straining to hold his weight was driving Por out of his mind.
Unable to resist, Por reached out with a shaking hand, his fingers wrapping around the thick curve of Tee’s bicep. He squeezed with all the strength he had left, feeling the rock-hard muscle flex against his palm with every thrust Tee delivered.
"Look at you..." Por whimpered, his voice laced with a dark, needy obsession. He pulled himself up slightly, straining his neck until his mouth reached the crest of Tee’s bicep.
Por pressed his lips against the hot skin, tasting the faint tang of salt and sweat, before sinking his teeth deep into the muscle.
Tee hissed through his teeth, a sharp jolt of pain mixing with the blinding heat between his legs. The sensation tore through his last shred of control. "P’Por—"
Por didn't let go immediately. He bit down harder, marking the dense flesh, his tongue sweeping over the indentation he left behind as he let out a muffled, desperate moan around Tee’s arm. He was intoxicated by the power radiating off Tee, obsessed with the physical proof of Tee's strength holding him down.
Tee pulled his arm back, growling as he looked down at the dark, crescent-shaped bite mark distinct on his skin.
"You want to bite?" Tee’s dark eyes flashed with a dangerous, dominant spark.
Without warning, Tee pulled out entirely, the sudden emptiness making Por cry out in protest. Before Por could turn around or ask what was wrong, Tee’s heavy, broad hand came down against the bare, exposed curve of Por’s left buttock with a loud, resounding
CRACK
The sharp impact echoed through the high-ceilinged suite.
"Ah! Tee!" Por gasped, his back arching violently as a wave of stinging heat exploded across his skin.
"You think you can mark me and not pay for it?" Tee growled, his voice thick and possessive.
CRACK
Tee brought his palm down again, hard and full, right on the apex of Por’s right cheek. The sound was sharp, viciously intimate, instantly leaving a bright pink palm print blooming against Por’s pale flesh.
Por buried his face into the plush mattress, a shattered, needy sob bursting from his throat. The sting was agonizingly sharp, but as the blood rushed to the surface, it converted almost instantly into a deep, throbbing ache of pure arousal that pooled straight between his thighs.
"Tee... please..." Por whimpered, rolling his hips back into the air, presenting himself completely, his lower body shaking from the sensory overload.
CRACK. CRACK.
Tee didn't hold back, striking in quick, heavy succession. He used the broad flat of his palm to work over both cheeks, rhythmically punishing and molding the soft, heavy flesh he had been staring at under the stage lights all afternoon. With every sharp slap, the sound filled the room, and the pale skin darkened from light pink to a deep, angry, beautiful crimson.
"Look how red you are," Tee muttered, leaning down to run his rough palm over the hot, throbbing skin he had just reddened. The friction of his calloused hand against the stinging heat made Por squirm and whimper in exquisite agony. "All that teasing on stage... all those people looking at you... and now look at what you look like for me."
"It hurts—Tee, it hurts so good—ah!" Por gasped, his fingers blindly reaching back, searching for Tee’s arms again. When his fingers found Tee’s forearms, Por clung to them desperately, pulling Tee closer. "Fix it... please, Tee, fill me up, fix it..."
Tee didn't make him ask twice. He grabbed Por’s hips—his thumb digging right into the reddened, sensitive flesh—and lined himself up again.
He drove back inside in one hard, fluid motion.
The combination of the stinging, bruised heat on his rear and the sudden, total fullness stretching him open made P’Por scream out, a high, shattered sound that melted into a broken series of cries as Tee established a brutal, relentless rhythm.
Every time Tee snapped his hips forward, his lower belly slammed against Por’s reddened, hyper-sensitive skin, sending shockwaves of intensity straight through Por’s nervous system. The stinging turned into an intoxicating hum, amplifying every single internal point of friction until P’Por was seeing stars behind his eyelids.
"Tee—I'm—I'm gonna—" Por choked out, his voice completely wrecked, his whole frame thrashing against the sheets.
Tee reached around, wrapping one arm around Por’s chest to hoist him up off the bed, pulling Por back against his broad, bare torso. Tee’s other hand reached down, gripping Por’s leaking shaft, stroking in time with his brutal, shallow thrusts inside him.
Tee locked his jaw, his own breathing ragged and harsh in Por’s ear. He looked down, watching his own broad bicep—marked clearly by Por’s bite—flexing against Por’s chest, holding him tight while he used him.
"Cum for me, P’Por," Tee ordered, his voice a low, commanding rumble against Por’s jaw. "Let go."
The command broke Por completely. With a sharp, breathless gasp, Por’s body went rigid. A white-hot orgasm tore through him, spilling over Tee’s fingers and onto the tangled white sheets below. The inner walls of his body clamped down around Tee in violent, rhythmic spasms.
The tight, milking grip of Por’s climax pushed Tee right over the edge. With a low, animalistic growl, Tee buried himself as deep as he could go, holding Por tightly against his chest as he came inside him, his pulse hammering wildly against Por’s back.
For a long time, the only sound in the penthouse suite was the harsh, ragged dragging of their breathing, the air thick and warm.
Slowly, carefully, Tee eased them both down onto their sides. He pulled Por close, wrapping his heavy arms around Por’s waist in a protective, tight spoon. Por was completely limp, his skin flushed and slick with sweat, his breath slowly evening out against the pillows.
Tee reached down to adjust the duvet, pulling the soft white comforter over Por’s bare shoulders to keep the chill of the air conditioner off him. He leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss into the warm crook of Por’s neck, lingering there as his heart rate finally settled.
"You okay?" Tee whispered softly, all the rough, commanding edge in his voice gone, replaced by a deep, affectionate warmth.
Por shifted slightly, letting out a dramatic, exaggerated groan as his lower back stretched. "Am I okay? Tee, I’m pretty sure my butt is bright red. How am I supposed to sit through hair and makeup tomorrow morning?"
Tee burred a quiet chuckle into Por’s neck, his chest vibrating against Por’s back. "You brought it on yourself, P'Por. You bit me first."
"Because you were flexing like a bodybuilder in the middle of sex!" Por turned his head slightly, glaring playfully over his shoulder, though his swollen lips and fond eyes completely ruined the effect. "It’s a natural reaction! You can't put a feast in front of a hungry person and tell them not to eat."
Tee laughed out loud this time, a rich, open sound that filled the quiet room. He reached over, pulling Por’s hand up to his mouth to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. "A feast, huh?"
"Yes! A muscle feast," Por huffed, though a soft giggly smile broke across his face. He rolled over carefully to face Tee, wincing just a tiny bit as his rear made contact with the mattress. He buried his face into Tee’s bare chest, resting his cheek right over Tee’s beating heart. "Seriously though... my hips are going to be so sore tomorrow."
"I'll carry you to the van," Tee offered casually, his thumb gently stroking Por’s cheek, wiping away a dry smudge of sweat. "Or I can just carry you on stage for the whole second show."
Por let out a breathless snort of laughter, striking Tee’s chest weakly with his fist. "Don't even joke about that! The managers would pass out on the spot, and P’Aof would murder us both."
"Let them pass out," Tee murmured softly, his smile fond as he watched Por’s eyelashes flutter shut. "It’d be worth it."
Por’s hand slid lazily up Tee's arm, his fingers finding the distinct, dark crescent mark he’d left on Tee’s bicep earlier. He ran the pad of his thumb gently over the tender skin, tracing his own bite mark with a quiet, satisfied giggle.
"It looks good on you," Por murmured sleepily, resting his chin on Tee's chest and looking up through heavy eyelids. "A permanent reminder."
"It's not permanent, P’Por, it'll fade in three days," Tee teased softly, rolling his eyes with a affectionate smirk.
"Then I'll just have to bite you again tomorrow night," Por whispered back, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes before he let out a long, quiet yawn. He snuggled closer, wrapping one arm tightly over Tee’s waist and resting his face back against Tee’s shoulder. "Goodnight, Tee..."
Tee smiled into the dark room, tightening his arm around Por, holding him secure against his chest as the Cotai skyline sparkled quietly outside their window.
"Goodnight, P’Por," Tee whispered, kissing the top of his head as they both finally drifted off to sleep.
End.