Chapter Text
The next time they see each other, it’s a Monday. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and the weather forecast promises a light drizzle of rain in the evening. Phuwin wakes up feeling more energized than he has in days — he’s got a spring in his step, a smile on his face, and he’s humming as he takes the bus to the studio.
“Hey, Phuwin, what’s up?” Pond says, clapping him on the shoulder when they meet for a smoke break in the alleyway behind the building.
“Not much, Pond. What’s up with you?”
“Eh, same as ever,” Pond says. He takes a drag on his cigarette. “Can’t complain.”
Pond is a sound engineer. Phuwin has never seen him in anything but a T-shirt, even when it’s freezing outside and the studio doesn’t have working heat, and he has never said more than three words to Phuwin before now.
He’s got a really nice smile, though.
“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee?” Pond asks, and Phuwin almost drops his phone.
“Um, sure, yeah. I mean, I’d love to,” Phuwin says.
Pond laughs. “Don’t worry, Phuwin, it’s just a coffee.”
They walk to the café down the street in silence, and then sit down in the corner at a table by the window. There’s a girl sitting a few seats down from them, sketching something in a notebook.
“Huh, she’s good,” Pond says, nodding at her. “I’ve never seen her around before. You think she’s a student?”
“She’s definitely drawing us,” Phuwin says, eyeing her over the menu. “Look at her glancing over here.”
Pond squints at her. “Oh, you’re right.”
“I bet she’s gonna ask for our autographs,” Phuwin says. “Or our numbers. I bet she’s gonna slide over here and ask for our numbers.”
“I mean, we could give them to her,” Pond says, grinning. “What do you say, wanna go on a double date with a stranger in a café?”
“No way,” Phuwin says. He pokes Pond on the shoulder. “But maybe I’d go on a date with you, if you asked nicely.”
Pond blinks at him.
“What?” Phuwin says, laughing. “Surprised?”
“I — ” Pond says. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
They order their coffees, and they talk a little, but mostly they just stare at each other in silence. Phuwin tries to think of something interesting to say, but he can’t think of anything, so he just keeps drinking his coffee and waiting for something to happen.
“Wow, that’s some strong coffee,” Pond says.
“Yeah,” Phuwin says.
They go to the studio the next day, but nothing happens. They go to the studio the day after that, and still nothing happens. On Thursday, Phuwin goes out for lunch and comes back with his hair cut in a way that’s meant to make him look like a model on the front of a fashion magazine, and still nothing happens.
He doesn’t see Pond at all on Friday. He texts him _hey, how are you,_ and then he forgets all about it.
“Are you free tonight?” Pond texts him back on Saturday morning.
Phuwin rubs at his eyes, squinting at his phone in the dark. “Yeah, why?”
“Do you want to go on a date?”
“What?” Phuwin texts back. “A date?”
“Yeah,” Pond says. “You, me, going somewhere together, eating food, talking about things, that kind of thing.”
“You want to go on a date with me?” Phuwin asks. He sits up in bed. “Like, a date-date?”
“Yeah,” Pond texts.
“Yeah,” Phuwin writes. “Okay. Sure. When?”
“Tonight?”
“Okay.”
“Cool.”
Phuwin sits back in bed and waits for his heart to stop pounding. Then he gets up and goes to the bathroom, and then he goes to the kitchen to have some breakfast. When he’s done eating, he goes back to his bedroom and sits on the bed, and he waits for something to happen. He’s still waiting when it starts getting dark outside, so he gets into the shower and washes himself.
“What time should I pick you up?” Pond texts.
“I don’t know, what time were you thinking of eating?” Phuwin replies.
“How about eight?”
“Okay,” Phuwin says, and then he gets out of the shower, and he dries himself, and he puts on his best pair of jeans, the one that still fits, and his nicest T-shirt, the one with a hole in the sleeve, and he sits on the bed again, waiting for something to happen, until eight o’clock, when there’s a knock at his door.
He opens the door. It’s Pond.
“Hi,” Phuwin says, staring.
“Hi,” Pond says. He smiles at Phuwin. “You look nice.”
“Thanks. You do, too.”
Pond is wearing jeans and a T-shirt — the same ones he always wears. His hair is shorter than Phuwin remembers. There are dark circles under his eyes, and he smells of cigarettes.
He looks exactly the same as he always does, and yet he looks nothing like the Pond that Phuwin knows. It’s as if Phuwin has stepped into an alternate universe, where Pond wears T-shirts and jeans and nothing else, and where he is taking Phuwin out on a date, like they’re not two men working the same job in the same studio, like they don’t already know each other.
They get in Pond’s car, and they drive into town, and they eat at an Italian restaurant that Phuwin has been to before, but where he’s never eaten. It’s not a very good restaurant, and they’re out of a lot of things on the menu, and it takes ages before someone comes over to take their orders, and then it takes even longer before they get their food, and when they do get their food, they’re missing the salad that Phuwin ordered, and the pasta dish that Pond gets is not what he ordered, but they don’t send it back. Instead, they eat their food and talk a little.
It’s not the best date that Phuwin has ever been on — it’s not even in the top five — but it’s not the worst one, either. When they’re done eating, they go outside and walk down the street. They walk past the park and down to the river, where they sit down on a bench and watch the water.
“I can’t believe this,” Phuwin says after a moment.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean — ” Phuwin starts, but then he stops. “I don’t know,” he says. “This is nice.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Pond says.
They look at each other. Phuwin grins. “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he asks. “Or should I walk by again?”
Pond laughs. It’s a nice laugh — it’s loud and full-bodied and it fills Phuwin with a sense of warmth. “I don’t believe in love,” he says. “First sight or not.”
“Really?” Phuwin says. “Not even love at first coffee?”
“No,” Pond says. He grins. “But I do believe in lust at first sight. Does that count?”
“Not really,” Phuwin says, leaning in, “but I believe in lust, too, so it works out either way.” He presses his lips against Pond’s.
Pond kisses him back.
It starts raining when they get back to Phuwin’s apartment, and they have to run the last bit. They’re both soaking wet by the time they get inside, and they’re laughing. Phuwin locks the door behind them, and then he turns around, and he pulls Pond in for another kiss, and they stumble backwards, down the hallway, and into the living room, where Phuwin pushes Pond down on the couch and climbs into his lap.
They kiss until their lips are sore, and then they kiss some more, until they’re both breathless. They stop to catch their breaths, and then they start kissing again, and this time they don’t stop until they’ve lost their shirts, and then their shoes, and then their socks, and then Phuwin is sitting in Pond’s lap with his arms wrapped around Pond’s neck, and he’s grinding against Pond, who is grinding back against him. He can feel the hardness of Pond’s cock against his ass, and it makes him moan.
“God, I want you so bad,” he whispers against Pond’s lips. “I want you to fuck me so bad.”
“Phuwin,” Pond groans, digging his fingers into Phuwin’s hips. “I want to fuck you so bad.”
“Then do it,” Phuwin says, kissing him again. “Fuck me.”
Pond groans again, and then he stands up, and he carries Phuwin over to the bedroom. They fall down on the bed in a mess of limbs, and they roll around, grinding against each other, until Phuwin manages to free himself from Pond’s grip. He slides down between Pond’s legs, kissing a trail down his chest and his stomach until he reaches the waistband of his jeans.
He undoes the button. He pulls down the zipper. He tugs the jeans down over Pond’s hips, and then he throws them to the floor.
“Phuwin,” Pond whispers.
“Shh,” Phuwin whispers back. He presses a kiss against the bulge in Pond’s underwear. “Lift your hips.”
Pond lifts his hips.
Phuwin tugs his underwear down and throws them to the floor with the jeans. He looks up at Pond. “You okay with this?” he asks, wrapping his fingers around Pond’s cock.
“Yeah,” Pond says, voice breathy.
“Okay,” Phuwin says. Then he leans in and takes the head of Pond’s cock into his mouth. He licks across the slit, tasting the bitter saltiness of precome, and then he sucks, hollowing out his cheeks.
“Fuck, Phuwin,” Pond groans.
Phuwin pulls off. “You like that?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Pond pants. “Yeah, I like that.”
“Okay,” Phuwin repeats. He lowers his head again and takes Pond’s cock deeper into his mouth, and then deeper still, until his nose is pressed up against the dark curls at the base. He sucks in a breath through his nose, and then he starts bobbing his head up and down, sucking and licking and tasting as much of Pond’s cock as he can, until he can feel himself getting hard.
He moans around Pond’s cock, and Pond moans, too.
Phuwin loves sucking cock. He loves the taste and the smell of it, he loves the weight of it on his tongue, and he loves the sounds that men make when he bobs his head up and down. He could suck cock all day if he had the chance, and he thinks that he would be more than happy to spend the rest of the night with Pond’s cock in his mouth.
But Pond has other ideas.
“Wait,” Pond says, tugging on Phuwin’s hair. “Wait, Phuwin, stop.”
Phuwin lifts his head. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Pond says. He sits up and reaches for Phuwin. “Come here,” he says, and pulls Phuwin up into another kiss.
Phuwin sighs against his lips. He wraps his arms around Pond’s neck and straddles his lap. They kiss for a long, long moment, and then Pond rolls them over, until he’s lying on top of Phuwin.
“I want to blow you, too,” Pond says, kissing down Phuwin’s neck.
“You don’t have to,” Phuwin moans.
“I know,” Pond says. He kisses down Phuwin’s chest, sucking on his nipples, and then down across his stomach. “I want to.”
He tugs at the waistband of Phuwin’s jeans. “Can I take these off?”
“Yes,” Phuwin hisses. He lifts his hips up off the bed, and Pond tugs his jeans down.
He kicks them off. He wraps his fingers around the waistband of his underwear and lifts his hips again, and Pond pulls his underwear down, too. He throws them to the floor, and then he wraps his hand around Phuwin’s cock, and Phuwin moans again.
“Pond,” he sighs, bucking up into his fist. “Pond, please.”
“Shh,” Pond whispers, kissing down the inside of Phuwin’s thigh.
He presses his mouth against Phuwin’s balls and sucks one into his mouth. Phuwin gasps. He grips the bedsheets with both hands and arches up off the bed.
“Pond,” he whimpers, spreading his legs wider.
Pond hums around his balls. He sucks for a moment, and then he lets go, and then he licks a trail up the underside of Phuwin’s cock.
Phuwin arches up off the bed again. “God, yes,” he moans. “Pond — ”
“Hush,” Pond says. He presses a kiss against Phuwin’s hip, and then he moves lower, his lips brushing across sensitive skin.
Phuwin bucks up into the touch. “Please,” he begs. “Pond, I need — ” He cuts himself off with a loud moan as Pond’s tongue presses against his hole.
“Oh my god,” he gasps, gripping the sheets tighter. “Yes. God, yes. Like that.”
Pond hums against his skin, and the vibrations travel up Phuwin’s spine. He digs his fingers into the sheets and arches his back, moaning as loud as he can. It feels so good; it feels so good, and he never wants it to end.
But all good things must come to an end, and this is no exception to the rule. Eventually, inevitably, Pond pulls away, and Phuwin lets out a desperate sob at the loss of contact.
“Wait,” he says, looking down at Pond between his legs. “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not going to,” Pond replies, grinning up at him.
And he doesn’t.
He dives back in, licking and sucking and probing at Phuwin’s hole with his tongue. He reaches up to wrap his fingers around Phuwin’s cock again, and he strokes it in time with his licking, and it feels so good that Phuwin can’t help but buck up into his touch.
He’s so close to coming, so close, and he tries to hold back, but it’s too much. It feels too good, and he can’t stop himself. He comes with a shout, eyes squeezed shut and back arched, spurting all over his stomach.
“Fuck,” he pants when he’s riding down his orgasm. He looks down at Pond. “Fuck, that was so good.”
Pond grins up at him. He presses a kiss against the inside of Phuwin's thigh and sits up. “I'm glad,” he says.
“I need a minute,” Phuwin pants.
“Take your time,” Pond replies.
Phuwin catches his breath. He lies there, staring up at the ceiling, and waits for his heartrate to go down. When it does, he sits up, and then he shuffles over to the edge of the bed and leans down to grab his jeans.
“What are you doing?” Pond asks.
“I’m getting a condom,” Phuwin says, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket. “And some lube.”
He finds a condom and pulls it out. Then he tosses his wallet back onto the floor and crawls over to Pond. He holds out the condom. “Put it on,” he says.
Pond takes the condom from him. He rips it open with his teeth, and then he slides it over his cock, rolling it down the shaft with his fingers. Phuwin watches him with bated breath.
“Like this?” Pond asks when the condom is on.
“Yeah,” Phuwin breathes. “Just like that.” He reaches out to run his fingers up the side of Pond’s cock. “God, you’re so big.”
“Thanks,” Pond says, grinning. “Do you want to ride me?”
“Yeah,” Phuwin groans. He shuffles closer. “Yeah, I want to ride you.”
“Okay,” Pond says. He lies down on his back. “Then come here.”
Phuwin settles himself in Pond’s lap, straddling his legs. He picks up the bottle of lube and coats his fingers. Then he reaches behind himself and presses one against his entrance.
He hisses at the feeling, and then he breathes out and pushes his finger in. He works himself open with one finger, and then another, and he can feel himself getting harder with every passing second.
“Are you ready for me?” Pond asks, wrapping his hand around his cock.
“Yeah,” Phuwin replies, pulling his fingers out.
“Okay.” Pond presses the head of his cock against Phuwin’s entrance, and then he grips Phuwin’s hips with his free hand, holding him steady, and then he’s pushing in, and Phuwin is so tight, and it feels so good.
“Oh my god,” Phuwin whimpers, gripping Pond’s shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re so thick.”
Pond grunts. He pushes in more, inch by inch, until he’s fully sheathed. Then he stops and looks up at Phuwin. “Are you okay?” he asks, panting.
“Yeah,” Phuwin sighs, rolling his hips. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He clenches around the girth of Pond’s cock and moans at the feeling. “God, I could stay like this forever.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Pond grunts. He digs his fingers into Phuwin's hips. “Ride me.”
“Okay,” Phuwin breathes.
He lifts himself up, until just the head of Pond’s cock is stretching his hole, and then he drops back down. He does it again, and again, bouncing up and down on Pond’s cock, rolling his hips with every downward thrust. He sets a punishing pace, moaning with every movement.
It feels so good. It feels so, so good. He can feel every inch of Pond’s cock dragging across his prostate, and he’s so hard, so impossibly hard, and he knows that he won’t last long like this.
“Fuck,” he moans, digging his fingers into Pond’s chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck —”
He cuts himself off with a cry, convulsing as he comes for the second time. His cock spurts all over Pond’s stomach, and he collapses, boneless, in his lap.
“Fuck,” Pond hisses, and then he rolls them over and starts thrusting into Phuwin.
It feels so good; it’s too much, too much, and Phuwin wraps his legs around Pond’s waist and his arms around his neck, and he holds on for dear life.
Pond fucks him through his orgasm, pounding into him with deep, powerful thrusts, until he, too, finds his release. He stills above Phuwin, moaning, and then he pulls out and collapses on top of him.
“Fuck,” Phuwin says when he can breathe again. “That was so good.”
“Yeah,” Pond sighs. “Yeah, it was.”
They lie there for a while. Then Pond rolls off of Phuwin and sits up.
“Do you want to go on another date? I promise to make more effort about it this time." Pond asked hopefully.
“Yeah,” Phuwin says, smiling lazily. “Yeah, let’s go on a date.”
They go on dates, and then they keep going on dates.
They eat breakfast at Phuwin's apartment every morning — usually toast or cereal, occasionally fried rice or pad thai, and once, eggs benedict with a side of fried tomatoes. They eat lunch at the studio — sandwiches from the shop down the street, or leftovers from last night’s dinner, or sushi from the place next to the grocery store. They eat dinner at restaurants all over town — Italian, Thai, Mexican, and Indian.
They hold hands as they walk down the street and steal kisses whenever they can. They go to the movies and the theatre, and sometimes they just sit on the couch at Phuwin’s apartment and watch TV.
“Have you seen this one?” Phuwin asks one night. He’s flipping through the streaming services on his TV.
“No,” Pond says.
Phuwin clicks on it. “It’s a good show,” he says, settling down on the couch next to Pond.
“Okay,” Pond replies. He puts his arm around Phuwin's shoulders and pulls him closer. Phuwin turns his head and kisses his cheek.
“Thanks for watching this with me,” he says.
“Sure,” Pond says, smiling down at him.
They watch two episodes, and then they watch one more, and then it’s midnight and they’re both exhausted.
“Can I stay the night?” Pond asks, yawning.
“Of course,” Phuwin says.
They brush their teeth and change into pajamas. Then they climb into bed together. Phuwin curls up against Pond’s chest, and Pond wraps his arm around him, holding him close.
“I like you a lot,” Phuwin murmurs.
“I like you, too,” Pond replies, carding his fingers through Phuwin’s hair.
He likes spending time with Phuwin. He likes going on dates and trying new restaurants, and he likes watching TV together on Phuwin’s couch, and he likes holding him at night when they sleep.
He loves Phuwin’s smile, and he loves his laugh. He loves his eyes and his nose and his mouth; he just loves him. Pond is confident and sure that they are going to be together for a long time.