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The rain pattered rhythmically against the windows of the apartment, creating a cozy, grey cocoon that shut out the rest of the world. Inside, the air was warm, smelling faintly of lemongrass and the wax melt bubbling in the corner.
Tan dropped his gym bag by the door with a heavy thud, shaking the droplets of water from his hair. He had had a long, grueling day—meetings that dragged on for hours, a workout that left his muscles screaming, and a traffic jam that tested his patience. All he wanted was a hot shower and to collapse onto the bed.
"Teerak?" a soft, melodic voice called out from the living room before Tan could even kick off his shoes.
Fang appeared in the doorway of the hallway, wearing one of Tan’s oversized hoodies. It swallowed his smaller frame, the sleeves slipping down past his wrists, making him look incredibly soft and domestic. His eyes, bright and warm, crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
Tan felt the tension in his shoulders instantly dissipate. "Hey," he managed, his voice a little rough from exhaustion. "I thought you’d be asleep by now."
"I was waiting for my handsome man," Fang said, crossing the room with quick, light steps. He didn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around Tan’s waist and burying his face in Tan’s chest.
Tan sighed happily, the deep sound rumbling through his ribcage. He wrapped his arms around Fang, pulling him in tight. This was his safe place. "I’m all sweaty, Fang. Go away," Tan teased, though he made no move to let go.
"I don't care. I missed you," Fang mumbled into his shirt. He leaned back, looking up at Tan with an expression of pure adoration. "You worked so hard today. My poor baby."
Tan rolled his eyes, but a faint pink tint was already rising on his cheeks. "I'm not a baby, Fang. I'm perfectly capable."
"I know, I know," Fang cooed, reaching up to brush a stray damp hair off Tan’s forehead. His touch was gentle, lingering. "My strong, capable Teerak. The best boyfriend in the whole world."
Tan cleared his throat, looking away toward the kitchen. "Is there food?"
"Yes! I made your favorite. But first," Fang grabbed Tan’s hand, interlacing their fingers. "Come sit. You look exhausted."
Tan allowed himself to be led to the sofa. He sat down heavily, groaning as the cushions supported his weight. Fang immediately knelt on the floor between Tan’s legs, looking up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. It was a position of submission, one that Tan naturally took the lead in, but right now, Fang was orchestrating the comfort.
"You’re so tense," Fang murmured, his hands moving to Tan’s shoulders. He began to knead the muscles, his thumbs pressing firmly into the knots near Tan’s neck. "My poor lovely man. Carrying the weight of the world on these shoulders."
"Fang..." Tan warned softly, though his head lolled forward, giving Fang better access. "You don't have to say all that stuff."
"But I mean it," Fang insisted. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the side of Tan’s neck, right over the frantic pulse point. "You are so lovely, Tan. You work so hard for us. You are so good to me."
Tan’s face was burning now. He was the dominant one, the one usually in control, the one whispering sweet nothings or taking charge. But when Fang started this—when Fang started calling him *Teerak* with that earnest, breathless voice—Tan turned into mush. He felt vulnerable in a way he didn't allow anyone else to see.
"You're just trying to get me to do the dishes," Tan mumbled, trying to deflect the rising heat in his face.
Fang giggled, a sound like wind chimes. "No. I'm trying to get you to relax. Turn around."
Tan complied, shifting so his back was to Fang. Fang continued the massage, working down Tan’s spine, but the praise didn't stop.
"Your back is so broad, Teerak," Fang whispered, his hands tracing the lines of Tan’s shoulder blades under the t-shirt. "I feel so safe when you hold me. Like nothing can ever hurt me."
Tan gripped the fabric of his own jeans, his knuckles turning white. He could feel the blush spreading from his neck all the way to his ears. "Fang, seriously..."
"What?" Fang asked innocently, leaning his chin on Tan’s shoulder. "Can't I compliment my boyfriend? Can't I tell you that you are the most handsome, most charming, most lovely person I have ever met?"
Tan turned his head, catching Fang’s gaze. There was a playfulness in Fang’s eyes, but also a deep, abiding love that hit Tan right in the chest. Tan brought a hand up, cupping Fang’s cheek. His thumb stroked the soft skin there.
"You make me sound like a saint," Tan grumbled, his voice low.
"You're my saint," Fang beamed, kissing the palm of Tan’s hand. "My lovely, blushing Tan."
"I am not blushing," Tan lied.
"You are! You’re as red as a tomato! It’s adorable." Fang laughed again and shifted, climbing up onto the sofa. He didn't sit next to Tan; he crawled right into Tan’s lap, straddling his thighs.
Tan’s hands instinctively went to Fang’s waist, steadying him. The position was familiar, grounding. Tan was definitely the top here—he was the one holding Fang up, the one whose frame enveloped the smaller boy. But emotionally, Fang held all the cards.
Fang wrapped his arms around Tan’s neck, nuzzling his nose against Tan’s. "Are you feeling better?"
"A little," Tan admitted, looking into those bright eyes. "You're annoying when you do this."
"You love it," Fang teased.
"I do," Tan whispered, the confession slipping out before he could stop it.
Fang’s expression softened, the playfulness fading into tenderness. "I love you, too. So much, Teerak."
Fang leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. The air between them grew heavy, charged with affection. "You take such good care of me," Fang whispered, his lips brushing Tan’s with every word. "You’re so gentle with me, even when you're tired. You are my everything."
Tan groaned softly, burying his face in the crook of Fang’s neck to hide his burning face. "If you keep talking like that, I’m going to have to kiss you to shut you up."
Fang ran his fingers through Tan’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "That sounds like a reward, not a punishment."
Tan lifted his head, his eyes dark but vulnerable. "Fang..."
"Yes, Teerak?"
"Say it again. Just... one more time."
Fang smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. He leaned close, his breath hot against Tan’s ear. "I love you, my lovely Tan."
Tan didn't hesitate. He closed the distance between them, capturing Fang’s lips in a deep, passionate kiss. It wasn't rough or demanding; it was slow and sweet, a translation of all the words Tan couldn't seem to say without tripping over them. He pulled Fang tighter against his chest, one hand sliding up Fang’s back to cradle the back of his head.
When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless. Fang’s lips were swollen, his eyes hazy and happy. Tan’s face was still flushed, but he looked relaxed, the exhaustion of the day forgotten.
"Better?" Fang asked softly, brushing his thumb over Tan’s lower lip.
Tan nodded, resting his forehead against Fang’s again. "Yeah. Much better."
"Good," Fang hummed, settling contentedly against Tan’s chest. "Now, let's stay here for a bit. I want to cuddle my Teerak."
Tan chuckled, the vibration shaking them both. He wrapped his arms securely around Fang, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world—which, to Tan, he was. "Okay," Tan murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Fang’s head. "Just for a bit."
A few minutes after Fang pulled back slightly, still grinning with that mischievous, adoring glint in his eyes. He reached up to poke Tan’s cheek, right where the blush was still lingering. "Look at you," Fang teased, his voice light and airy. "My big, strong Teerak is turning pink just because I told the truth. It’s absolutely adorable."
He leaned in to peck Tan’s nose. "You’re so cute when you’re flustered, my love—"
The words died in Fang’s throat, caught instantly by a sharp intake of breath.
Tan didn't retreat this time. He didn't hide his face or mumble a deflection. The switch in his eyes was instantaneous—a dark, heavy heat replaced the soft vulnerability. The hands resting on Fang’s waist suddenly tightened, grip turning from reassuring to possessive.
"Think so?" Tan murmured, his voice dropping an octave until it was a low, vibrating rumble that seemed to tickle Fang’s very bones.
Before Fang could answer, Tan’s hands moved. One slid down from Fang’s waist, bypassing the loose fabric of the sweatpants Fang was wearing to grip the bare skin of his thigh firmly. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of sensation straight up Fang’s spine.
"Tan!" Fang gasped, his eyes widening, his playful demeanor evaporating into sudden arousal.
"You think you can just say whatever you want?" Tan whispered, leaning forward so his lips grazed the sensitive shell of Fang’s ear. "You think you can call me 'lovely' and 'Teerak' and make me blush, and I won't do anything about it?"
Fang shuddered as Tan’s thumb began to stroke the inside of his thigh, a dangerously high inch from where he needed it most. "I... I was only..."
"Shh," Tan hushed him, but the sound was predatory. He used his other hand to tangle in Fang’s hair, tilting his head back to expose the long, pale line of his throat.
Tan didn't just kiss him; he marked him. He dragged his open mouth along the column of Fang’s neck, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise, tasting the salt of Fang’s skin. Fang’s fingers, previously resting lightly on Tan’s shoulders, dug in hard, clutching at the fabric of Tan's t-shirt as his breath hitched.
"You started this, Fang," Tan growled against the damp skin of Fang's neck. His hand on Fang’s thigh slid upward, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessiveness that made Fang’s head spin. "Now you have to deal with the consequences."
"I... ah..." Fang tried to form a sentence, tried to regain some of the verbal upper hand he’d held moments ago, but Tan’s touch was dismantling him piece by piece.
Tan’s free hand moved from Fang’s hair, sliding down the front of the oversized hoodie Fang was wearing. Since it was Tan’s hoodie, it was huge on him, meaning Tan had easy access underneath. His warm, calloused palm flattened against Fang’s stomach, tracing the definition of his abs before drifting lower to toy with the waistband of the sweatpants.
"Tan, please..." Fang whimpered, his hips bucking involuntarily.
"Please what?" Tan asked, pulling back to look Fang in the eye. His gaze was intense, burning away any remaining shyness. He was in control now. He was the Top, and he was claiming his prize. "Use your words, baby."
Fang’s cheeks were flushed now, mirroring Tan’s from earlier, but for a completely different reason. He felt small and encompassed, trapped in the best possible way by Tan’s muscular thighs and roaming hands. "Please... touch me," Fang breathed out, his voice trembling.
"I am touching you," Tan teased, a smirk ghosting over his lips. His hand slipped under the waistband of the sweatpants, skimming the elastic of Fang’s underwear, hovering torturously close. "You're the one who likes to talk so much. Where did that voice go now?"
Fang let out a broken moan, burying his face in Tan’s shoulder to hide his desperation. "You... you're mean."
"I'm lovely, remember?" Tan whispered mockingly, echoing Fang’s earlier sentiment. He bit down gently on Fang’s earlobe, his hand finally moving where Fang needed it most, cupping him firmly through the thin fabric of his boxers.
The reaction was immediate. Fang’s back arched, a cry tearing from his lips as his head fell back. The sensation overwhelmed him, the heat of Tan’s hand searing through him.
"Look at me," Tan commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Fang forced his eyes open, his vision blurry with pleasure. Tan was staring at him with a dark hunger, his jaw set, his eyes blown black with desire.
"You love making me blush," Tan said, his hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes that reduced Fang to a quivering mess. "But look at you now. You're the one who looks wrecked, and I've barely started."
Fang let out a breathless laugh that turned into a groan as Tan squeezed. "Okay... okay, you win."
Tan hummed, satisfied. He surged forward, capturing Fang’s lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue. He swallowed Fang’s whimpers, dominating the kiss completely, one hand anchoring Fang’s hip while the other continued its torturous work beneath the waistband.
When he finally broke the kiss, Fang was panting, his lips swollen and his eyes glassy. He looked up at Tan with a mix of awe and pure need.
"Still think I'm shy?" Tan asked, his voice raspy.
Fang shook his head frantically, clinging to Tan’s biceps. "No... Tan... you're... you're amazing."
"Good," Tan growled, lifting Fang up as if he weighed nothing. Fang instinctively wrapped his legs around Tan’s waist. "Now, let’s take this to the bedroom. I want to hear you say that again when I’m inside you."
Fang hid his burning face in Tan’s neck again, but he was smiling, his heart racing in anticipation. "Yes" he whispered softly.
Tan carried him down the hall, the earlier sweetness replaced by a burning tension that promised the rest of the night would be long, loud, and unforgettable.
The door to the bedroom didn't just click shut; it was kicked closed, the sound echoing like a starting gun in the quiet apartment. The atmosphere shifted instantly from tender to electric. Tan didn't bother with the lights; the pale glow from the streetlamps outside filtered through the blinds, casting long, shadowy stripes across the bed.
Tan dropped Fang onto the mattress, the bounce swallowed by the soft duvet. Before Fang could scramble back or even catch his breath, Tan was looming over him, caging him in with arms braced on either side of his head. The look in Tan’s eyes was feral, a stark contrast to the blushing mess Fang had teased minutes ago.
"You talked a big game, Fang," Tan rasped, his voice low and vibrating with need. He reached down, gripping the hem of his own hoodie—the one Fang was wearing—and yanked it roughly upwards.
Fang lifted his arms instinctively, letting the fabric strip him bare. The cool air hit his skin for a split second before Tan’s body heat was pressing down on him, searing him.
"Tan..." Fang breathed out, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"Shh," Tan commanded, dipping his head to bite down hard on the curve of Fang’s shoulder. It wasn't a nibble; it was a possessive claim, teeth sinking in just enough to mark, to sting.
Fang cried out, his back arching off the bed, his hands flying up to tangle in Tan’s hair. But Tan wasn't having any of Fang’s control right now. He caught Fang’s wrists in one large hand, pinning them effortlessly above Fang’s head against the pillows.
"No touching," Tan growled against Fang’s neck. "You wanted to see me lose control? You got it."
He didn't wait for Fang to adjust. There was no slow, gentle build-up this time. Tan freed himself from his sweatpants with a hurried, impatient movement, his hands shaking slightly with the sheer intensity of his desire. He hooked his hands under Fang’s knees, pushing them up and open, baring him completely.
"Tan, wait—" Fang gasped, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt the blunt pressure of Tan against him.
"You can take it," Tan said, his voice strained, dark with lust. "You always take it so well."
With a sharp, deliberate snap of his hips, Tan pushed inside.
The sensation was overwhelming—a sudden, breathtaking stretch that bordered on too much. Fang’s eyes flew open, his mouth forming a silent 'O' as his body struggled to accommodate the intrusion. It burned, a hot, piercing ache that shot up his spine, but beneath it was a deep, throbbing pleasure that made his toes curl.
"Tan!" Fang finally cried out, his voice breaking.
Tan didn't stop. He didn't give Fang the chance to catch his breath. He set a punishing rhythm from the very first thrust, driving into Fang with a force that shook the bed frame. The headboard slammed rhythmically against the wall, a loud staccato that matched the erratic beating of Fang's heart.
"You feel... incredible," Tan gritted out, his grip on Fang’s hips tightening hard enough to bruise. He withdrew almost entirely before slamming back in, deep and unrelenting. He was hitting that spot inside Fang that made white sparks dance behind his eyelids, obliterating any coherent thought.
Fang was reduced to a string of incoherent moans and gasps. The earlier playfulness was gone, drowned under a tidal wave of sensation. He felt consumed, owned. Every time Tan thrust into him, it felt like he was being marked from the inside out.
"Look at me," Tan demanded, releasing one of Fang’s hips to grab his jaw, forcing him to make eye contact.
Fang’s vision was swimming, his face flushed a deep, beautiful crimson. Tears of overstimulation pricked at the corners of his eyes.
"Who's making you feel this good?" Tan asked, his pace never faltering, driving harder, faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, lewd and loud.
"You! You, Tan!" Fang sobbed, his hands scrabbling uselessly against the sheets. "Only you!"
Tan groaned, the praise feeding the fire in his belly. He leaned down, capturing Fang’s lips in a bruising kiss that swallowed Fang’s screams. It was messy, all teeth and desperation, mirroring the frantic rhythm of their bodies.
Fang felt the coil of heat tightening in his stomach, unbearable and hot. Tan was hitting him so deep, brushing against that sensitive bundle of nerves with ruthless precision. The friction was maddening, sending shocks of pleasure radiating out to his fingertips.
"Tan... I'm... I can't..." Fang whimpered, tears finally spilling over.
"Yes, you can," Tan growled, his breath hot against Fang’s ear. He shifted his angle slightly, grinding his hips in a way that made Fang see stars. "Come for me, Fang. I want to feel you."
He reached between them, wrapping his hand around Fang’s length, stroking him in time with his brutal thrusts.
It was too much. The dual sensation of Tan filling him up completely and Tan’s rough hand on him sent Fang flying over the edge. He arched his back, a silent scream tearing from his throat as his orgasm crashed over him, blinding and intense. He shuddered violently, his body clamping down around Tan.
Tan didn't stop. He rode Fang through the aftershocks, chasing his own release, his movements becoming erratic, almost desperate.
"You're mine," Tan hissed, burying his face in Fang's neck. "All mine, Fang. My teerak"
With a final, guttural groan, Tan stilled, buried to the hilt, pulsing deep inside Fang. He collapsed onto Fang, his heavy weight pressing the smaller boy into the mattress, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving in unison.
The room was silent except for their ragged breathing. Slowly, the haze cleared. Tan’s grip on Fang’s hips loosened, turning gentle again. He pressed a soft, tender kiss to the sweat-slicked skin of Fang’s shoulder, right over the bite mark he’d left earlier.
Fang lay boneless beneath him, completely wrecked, a sheen of sweat making his skin glow in the dim light. He felt limp, used, and absolutely cherished.
"Teerak..." Fang whispered, his voice hoarse.
Tan lifted his head, brushing Fang’s damp hair away from his forehead. The dominant mask had slipped away, leaving only soft, brown eyes full of love and concern.
"Did I hurt you?" Tan asked quietly, pressing his forehead to Fang's.
Fang managed a weak, blissful smile. "A little... but I liked it."
Tan huffed a small laugh, rolling them over onto their sides so he could pull Fang against his chest without crushing him. He wrapped his arms around Fang, holding him close, tucking Fang’s head under his chin.
"You drive me crazy, you know that?" Tan murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Fang's head.
Fang cuddled closer, his eyes already drifting shut. "I know," he whispered softly.
Tan smiled, feeling the warmth of Fang's words settle in his chest. "Love you Fang."
The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden haze over the bedroom. The air was cool, but under the heavy duvet, everything was warm and heavy with the scent of sleep and sex.
Fang was the first to stir. He shifted his legs under the covers, letting out a low, involuntary groan as a dull ache radiated through his lower back and hips. The memories of the night before—Tan’s rough grip, the relentless pace, the sheer intensity—flooded back instantly. He felt pleasantly wrecked, his body bearing the evidence of Tan’s passion in the form of tender muscles and faint marks on his skin.
He tried to sit up, but his body protested, his limbs feeling like jelly. He collapsed back against the pillows with a huff.
"Good morning, Teerak."
Fang blinked his eyes open. Tan was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching him with a gaze so soft it made Fang’s heart stutter. Tan’s hair was a mess of dark tufts, and his eyes were crinkled with a sleepy, affectionate smile.
Fang stared at him, confused. "Did... did you just call me Teerak?"
Tan hummed, leaning forward to brush a stray lock of hair away from Fang’s forehead. "I did. You look so peaceful sleeping there. Like an angel."
He scooted closer, wrapping a protective arm around Fang’s waist and pulling him flush against his chest. "Especially when you look this cute in the morning."
Fang hid his face in Tan’s shoulder, embarrassed. "I look like a mess. And I can barely move."
Tan’s hand moved to Fang’s lower back, his large palm pressing gently against the sore muscles. He began to rub slow, soothing circles, the heat from his hand sinking deep into Fang's skin.
"I know," Tan said, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. "I was a bit too rough last night, wasn't I? I got carried away."
Fang peeked up, shaking his head slightly. "I didn't mind. I liked it."
Tan smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of Fang’s nose. "You were amazing. But now I need to take care of my sweetheart."
Fang let out a small squeak, burying his face again. "Sweetheart? Really, Tan?"
"Yes, really," Tan chuckled, the vibration rumbling against Fang’s cheek. "My poor, sore sweetheart. Does it hurt a lot?"
"A little," Fang admitted, relaxing into the massage.
"Turn over," Tan commanded softly.
Fang obeyed, rolling onto his stomach. Tan pulled the duvet down to expose Fang’s back, the morning light highlighting the faint red scratches and fading love bites scattered across his shoulder blades.
Tan sighed, a sound of regret mixed with adoration. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the back of Fang’s neck, then trailing a line of gentle kisses down his spine. He kissed every tender spot, his touch worshipful and light—a stark contrast to the demanding hands from the night before.
"You are so beautiful, Fang," Tan whispered against his skin. "I love seeing my marks on you, but I never want to hurt you."
"You don't hurt me," Fang mumbled into the pillow, his voice muffled and shy. "You always make me feel good."
Tan moved his hands to Fang’s shoulders, kneading the tension away. "Go back to sleep, Teerak. I’ll make you breakfast in a bit. You need to rest."
Fang felt his eyelids growing heavy again, the combination of Tan’s magical hands and the warm sunlight lulling him into a trance. "Okay," he whispered.
"But first," Tan said, shifting to lie beside Fang again, pulling the covers back up over them. He gathered Fang into his arms, tucking Fang’s head under his chin.
Tan ran his fingers through Fang’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly. "I love you, sweetheart."
Fang smiled against Tan’s chest, his heart swelling. He nuzzled closer, wrapping his arm around Tan’s waist. "I love you too, Tan."
"And tonight," Tan added, his tone playful but affectionate, "I’m just going to hold you. No rough stuff. Just cuddles."
Fang laughed softly, the sound vibrating between them. "We'll see about that."
Tan kissed the top of his head, holding him tighter as the morning drifted on, safe, warm, and utterly loved in each other's arms.