Archive of Our Own

--

Joss shifts in his seat, his lower back protesting after hours in the same position. Looking across at his father, fast asleep in his chair, Joss can’t help but smile.

It had been a weird conversation, to say the least, when he told his parents he was going to enter into a partnership with Gawin and start doing BL. They both knew what it was -- his mother was obsessed with Apo, and his father asked after P’Tay, saying several people at his business enjoyed Cherry Magic.

But there was always that old fear of rejection, of misunderstanding, sitting deep in his gut, as he explained what it would entail to be partnered with Gawin.

“That sounds pretty stressful, my son. You sure you want to do this?” Mae asked, leaning across the table to squeeze his hand.

Joss nodded, smiling sweetly at them, their youngest baby, and the one they worried about most. “I do. It’s a good opportunity to grow my career and my brand, and will help with those business ventures I want to develop.”

In all honesty, while those were important, the fact that he’d finally get to work with Gawin, after years of admiring him from afar and nursing the world’s biggest crush, was the main goal.

Two years of gently pushing and cajoling Gawin into opening up, like coaxing a slow-blooming lotus into flower, had paid off in spades. A month-long international fan meet tour, a fancon that led into a full-blown concert in Union Mall, and his dream series being produced, where he’d get to play a boxer stuck in a time loop with Gawin’s journalist… his life almost feels too good to be true. But manifestation and fucking hard work have shown results, and Joss is vindicated in that.

So when he was visiting his father in the provinces off the back of a gruelling media campaign for OFDO, and watching clip after clip of Gawin in Singapore, seemingly having a good time, the physical ache of not being with him was overwhelming.

“Where’s your head at, son?” Por asked over dinner the first night, Joss’s fingers itching to get back to X and find more clips of Gawin singing, laughing with the fans, behind the scenes content-- whatever he could get at.

“Hmm?” Joss responded, distracted, flushing at Por’s unimpressed eyeroll. “Sorry. My mind is in Singapore, it seems.”

“Your partnership still going strong, then?”

“Mm. Life is good, Por. I’m really happy.” And it’s not a lie-- just, not entirely true.

He’d be happier if he were Gawin’s, wholly and completely. Romantically. Not just this nebulous almost-but-not-quite that they’ve been existing in for at least the last ten months, his desires renewed since the Maldives.

“But you could be happier, am I right?” Por says, cutting straight to it.

Joss almost drops his fork, eyes wide and blinking. “W-what?”

Por sighs, leaning back, crossing his arms, his dark gaze assessing his youngest son. “You’ve always gone all in, my boy, with everything you do. Your education, acting, boxing… basketball. Now Gawin. Your intensity, your drive and desire; it’s the best thing about you. And the way you stare at him, talk about him, it’s the same as you’ve been with girlfriends in the past. It’s clear you’re feeling something more for him.”

Joss swallows, terrified. “P-Por…” he rasps.

Por leans forward. “It’s scary, isn’t it? When you don’t plan for it, don’t chase it because it comes to you first-- can’t control or bend to your will. It just is what it wants to be.”

“I… yeah. I’m worried that I’ll ruin everything. That this is just confusion from our shipwork. That’s why I haven’t said anything.” Joss looks down at his lap, embarrassed.

“Suffering in silence isn’t healthy. You’ve always been brave and go for what you want. This shouldn’t be any different. You know Gawin better than anyone. Do you think he would be receptive to you? Match what you’re feeling?”

Joss shakes his head. “I’m… I’m not sure.” Gawin is wonderful to him; their relationship becomes increasingly codependent as time goes on, seeking each other out in crowded rooms and agreeing to go to things only as long as the other will be there, but… it could just be comfort. Familiarity. Things that Gawin craves. “It could be nothing.”

“Or it could be something,” Por shrugs. “Go to Singapore, go see him. Tell him how you feel. Set yourself free.”

Joss swipes at his cheeks, mysteriously damp, and gives his father a wai. “Thank you, Por.” “Thank me for what? I’m coming with you. I need to see this in person,” he snorts, standing up with his plate.

Joss just grins and can’t stop, feeling lighter than air.

So here they are, about to land in Singapore, Joss wondering what to do, or how to approach this. Everything in him screams plan this meticulously, be thorough, be organised, be perfect. But he knows Gawin won’t want that.

Gawin, for whatever insane reason, loves it when Joss is spontaneous. When he's wild and true to his gut instincts, emotional and reactive instead of thinking fifteen moves ahead.

“I want the real you, J, and I deserve it. You’ve made me open up all the way to you, even the ugly parts. I deserve the same,” Gawin had said late one night at the end of filming MGB, on a beach in Chonburi somewhere, a bottle of wine being passed back and forth between them, the air muggy but clean around them, the sand gritty between their toes. It felt like a baptism of sorts, of breaking apart the shield he’d spent years building around himself, needing to be taken seriously and infallible-- Gawin coming along and destroying it all.

He texts Joong in the car on the way to the venue.

JWR

Nong, I’ll be there in like 20mins

Keep Gawin distracted and in the green room ok?

CHEN.RCJ

Porrrrrrrrr~!

So romantic ❤️‍🔥

Of course

He rolls his eyes, endeared to the kid, and his leg jiggles madly. Por reaches over and puts a hand on it, squeezing.

“All will be fine,” he says, sounding like a sage or something. Joss exhales.

“I wish I had your confidence,” he says. Por just rubs his back and returns to his phone, chirping away with whatever game he’s playing.

Joss fiddles, feeling the stress heavy in his shoulders as they pull up to the venue, and he introduces his father again to P’Tha, and gets him settled up in the VIP viewing area, before moving backstage to the green room.

He spots Mae Add, who starts waving and laughing madly at him. “Nong, what are you doing here? Did you get lost on your way back to Sukhumvit?”

Joss indulges her gentle teasing and hugs her. “I’m here to see Gawin.”

“Of course you are. They’re in there,” she says, pointing at a door two rooms back, where there’s a raucous seeping through the door as if he wasn’t going to know where they were.

“Thanks, Mae.” He gives her a wai and drifts past, tugging his mask down, a little nervous they won’t recognise him, as he takes a breath and opens the door, hit with a wave of noise. Nanon’s on the couch with Gawin, singing loudly, Pond and Joong in front of them, Santa and Aou nearby.

Nanon glances over between breaths and starts yelling and pointing as he gets closer, and he can’t stop smiling at the look of pleased surprise on Gawin’s face, Joong hollering in front of him, phone up.

He pulls his face mask back up quickly, feeling a bit gross from being on the plane, and Joong quickly puts the phone down, jumping up for a hug.

“Por, Por!” he says, and Joss pats his head. Gawin puts the guitar aside and stands up, and Joss tugs him in for a hug as well, going bright red as everyone starts yelling again.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Gawin says, grabbing his phone, and Joss follows him out, waving at the rest of them, ears burning at the teasing that follows them.

“You’re making a habit outta this, the fans are gonna bug you every time I go away,” Gawin says as they wander out towards the back. Fans have already been in the theatre since the sound check and are queued in a long line at the front.

“I’ll have to make sure I come every time then,” Joss says, tugging his facemask down, taking the bottled water handed to him by a staffer passing by. He drinks it gratefully, as they get outside into a small garden area, and the mugginess hits him again.

“Are you visiting friends or something and decided to swing by?” Gawin asks, sitting down on a bench. Joss joins him, trying not to press too tightly against him, given the weather, despite how much every particle of his being wants to.

“I told Blue I’d see him and his wife after this to meet Elora. You coming with me?” he asks.

Gawin huffs a laugh. “I can, yeah. Another new friend to meet.”

“Well, she’s like… two weeks old, so, probably not a friend just yet.”

“She’ll love you. Everyone does,” Gawin says, voice quiet in the warm evening air.

Joss tries not to ask, no matter how much he wants to. What about you? Do you love me?

“I’m gonna assume your shit is in my room, huh?” he continues.

Joss taps his fingers against the bench, nervous. “I bought Por with me, so we’ve got a twin room.”

Gawin hesitates for a second before nodding. Joss’s interest is piqued. Was that… disappointment?

“I might end up in your room, though. He snores worse than I do, or so you claim,” Joss says. Gawin snorts, the ghost of whatever before disappearing between them.

“I can’t believe you fucking came all the way here for me, again,” he says, glancing at Joss, his knee jiggling, arms wrapped around himself, fingers digging into his elbows. “You’re gonna make me get the wrong idea.”

Joss falters-- shit, is this the chance? Now, before the show? What if his confession makes Gawin uncomfortable and his performance suffers?-- but before he can make a decision, the back door opens, and Nanon leans out.

“We gotta go! Sorry, phis.”

Joss stands up, holding a hand out to Gawin, who takes it anyway, standing up with ease. His palm is warm and calloused in Joss’s, and he doesn’t want to let go, fingertips sliding along the bumps of a knuckle.

“Are you sitting with P’Tha?” Gawin asks softly.

“Por should already be there. I’ll go be with him.” Joss winces a little, knowing the asking will make it worse, but he has to try. “Don’t make a fuss over me, okay? I just want to chill there in the dark and listen to you sing.”

Gawin gives him a cheeky grin, reaching out and pinching gently at his inner elbow. “I’m always going to give you a hard time when you do something romantic like this.”

Joss flushes as Gawin breaks off with Nanon, Krist standing there holding his guitar, which he takes with a smile.

The frisson of jealousy that rips through Joss is stupid-- Gawin is with him now-- but he knows he hides it poorly, given how Krist gives him an encouraging smile and follows Gawin.

They’re both with different people now. It’s okay. He’s not going to leave you.

Shaking his head, he makes his way to the top with P’Tha and his father, and takes his seat, leaning as far forward as he can, awaiting the show.

Blue texts sometime after nine, asking when he'll arrive. Joss glances at the program and frowns. It'll be close to midnight, but he can probably still make it, as long as it doesn’t upset the baby’s schedule. Blue texts back, “I haven’t slept properly since she was born. Come whenever.”

For whatever reason, it makes him remember Gawin's comment -- everyone loves you -- and wonder whether Gawin believes it too.

The show finishes just after ten, as expected, and Joss joins his father and P’Tha, going to the green room, P’Tha organising cars and making sure their bookings are still held, given they’re later than expected.

“Whatcha doin’?” Gawin’s voice comes, soft and tired, humming underneath the cacophony of multiple voices at once. Joss’s ear is attuned far too well.

“Reading emails from Wave.”

Gawin looks away, his shoulder pressing against Joss’s. “I still can’t believe you got an assistant.”

Joss shrugs. “I needed one. He helps me figure out all this new business stuff, drives me around, takes care of my boring life shit.”

“He sounds like a boyfriend with none of the benefits,” Gawin says, holding the door nearest to them as everyone begins to file out, the Grab vans arriving to take them to the restaurant.

“He gets money. That’s his benefit. And he’s not my boyfriend, he’s my assistant,” Joss says, waving P’Tha and his father through, moving to the small of Gawin’s back as they follow up the rear.

“I know he’s not your boyfriend, I said he sounds like your boyfriend,” Gawin corrects, hands shoving into his jacket pockets, shoulders hunching. He’s defensive and uncomfortable, and Joss doesn’t know why. Gawin’s never said anything about having a problem with Wave before-- and it’s been a few months since Joss employed him.

"Okay, well… he's not remotely close to any of that. I barely see him. I'm with you more than anyone else," Joss says.

Gawin’s frustrations seem to ebb away by the time they get to the car, a comfortable silence falling between them, Joss trying valiantly not to fall asleep.

At the restaurant, Joss is still exhausted, chewing mindlessly as the noise from the others hums around him. Gawin slides more beef onto his plate.

“You okay?” Gawin murmurs as Joong gets up to the bathroom, Aou trailing behind him.

“Yeah, just tired.”

His phone buzzes with a text from Wave -- one of his potential co-investors has sent through some contract adjustments, and he’s highlighted some concerns. Joss can’t be fucked; he just wants to enjoy being here and slides his phone back in his pocket, scooping up more meat.

By the time dinner finishes, it’s close to midnight, and Joss is fighting to stay alive. “We still gonna visit Elora?” Gawin asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’m gonna get time to come back. I’m so sleepy,” Joss groans, as they split off from the others.

Blue and Eden are still awake when they arrive. Blue immediately starts talking Gawin's ear off about the concert while Joss settles in beside them, listening more than participating.

Gawin shifts, enough that their shoulders and thighs press together, as he pivots to talk with Eden about their dinner. Their conversation turns to travel while Joss and Blue talk Lakers, and Joss hears snatches of what Gawin’s saying to her.

“--again, if we have time. Probably after the concert. We want to go travelling somewhere… we probably won’t have time to go to America unless there’s more work, so maybe South Korea… or back to Japan.”

But also -- Gawin talking about them travelling together? That’s a first.

Not long after, they say their goodbyes and head back to the hotel, the Grab lulling Joss to sleep, slumped against Gawin. Joss doesn't wake until Gawin shakes his thigh. "We're here, big guy."

Half asleep, Joss follows him into the hotel. “I've got spare pyjamas,” Gawin says in the elevator, the numbers flicking up past them. He rubs his thumb along the edge of the keycard to the room he’s supposed to be sharing with his father, and despite his tiredness, notices how neither of them suggests he go there.

The next thing he knows, they're already making their way into Gawin's room. “You can shower first,” Gawin offers.

When Joss emerges, towel slung low around his hips, Gawin's gone suspiciously quiet. “Uh-- clothes,” he recovers, flushing, searching through his stuff, clearing his throat. Joss smirks, wonders if he can be bothered teasing, but Gawin’s got his own pyjamas and disappears into the bathroom before he can.

He gets changed, draping the towel over a chair, and crawls into bed, borrowing Gawin’s charger as he scrolls through his feed. Predictably, it’s entirely about Joss turning up in Singapore to watch Gawin at a concert yet again.

“Leo’s going to have a fucking field day at the next live,” Joss says, looking up as the bathroom door opens and Gawin emerges, steam rolling out around him, drying off his hair.

“Hm?” he asks, catching the tail end. Joss groans, scrubbing his face. His eyeballs feel like they are made of sand, exhaustion seeping into every atom of his being. He stays up so late whenever he’s around Gawin, his body rebelling against the night owl habits, but he just can’t help it…

“Leo is gonna roast me so much,” Joss repeats, and Gawin laughs, putting his towel next to Joss’s and padding over, climbing into the other side of the bed, reaching into his bed and emerging with another charger.

“Probably. You bring this on yourself, bro,” Gawin says, shaking his head, plugging his phone in. He flicks off the main lights, leaving the soft, yellow glow of the bedside lamps, and Joss wriggles down under the covers, the cold air conditioner making goosebumps on his arms.

“Nu uh,” he says, petulant, making Gawin laugh more.

“Yuh huh,” Gawin says, yawning himself, rubbing an eye. Joss turns on his side, curling up, sniffling, and wondering how quickly he’ll fall asleep. They all fly out around lunchtime so they can at least sleep in.

“Joss…” Gawin starts, lying on his side as well, facing Joss.

Joss waits for Gawin to figure out what he wants to say. Gawin bites his lip. “Why… why are you here? Really?” he asks, his voice so soft, Joss can barely hear it.

Joss blinks. Huh? “I’m here because I wanted to see you perform,” Joss says.

Gawin frowns a little. “Seriously.”

“Yes, seriously.”

“And no other reason?” he asks. The hopeful lilt at the end of his voice makes Joss remember Por’s words.

Go to Singapore, go see him. Tell him how you feel. Set yourself free.

He bites his lip. Is he brave enough? Gawin’s been acting strangely this evening, and it’s making him wonder.

“Well…” Joss begins, his voice wavering a little. Gawin’s eyes, having moved to stare down at the bed, dart upward, roaming across his face. “I went to see Por, and I guess I was kind of… watching a lot of videos of you. He asked me why I was acting like I’d never see you again. Then he… asked if I was going to see you. And it was like… it was weird, because… I hadn’t even considered I could do that, y’know? But at that second, when he asked, it was all I wanted to do, was come see you.”

“But we see each other all the time,” Gawin says slowly.

“I know. I know. It’s weird of me to want to see you even more, but I do. It’s like… you’ve become so critical to me now, I don’t know what to do when you’re not around. I keep turning to tell you something funny, or see if you need anything, and when you’re not there, it’s like… my arm’s cut off or something.”

Joss watches Gawin nervously for his response. He just stares at Joss, long eyelashes blinking slowly in the soft lamplight. God. How does anyone survive looking at him this long?

“And how did you feel when you saw me again?” Gawin asks, after far too many seconds of silence.

Joss doesn’t even have to think. “Like I could breathe again. Like I was back in balance.”

Gawin swallows, fingers tapping a nervous beat against the mattress, Joss feeling the tremors beneath him. “I don’t understand why it’s me,” he says.

“What do you mean? How is anything I just said not easy to understand?” Joss asks, clutching the duvet tightly.

Gawin lets out a sigh, and Joss feels like he’s fucking this up somehow. As if he’s not saying what Gawin needs to hear. “G…”

“Joss. Please.” Gawin interrupts. He fidgets with the neck of his sleep tee. “I… why me? You could have anyone. Literally anyone. I… I saw you in Singapore with Lisa. I’ve seen you with so many hot girls over the years. I don’t understand why you feel like you want me, now.”

Joss is speechless. Is this kid for fucking real? “Lisa was a client of Kevin’s that we’re friends with now. She got us tickets to the BLACKPINK show, that’s all. And… I mean, yeah, I’ve had girlfriends over the years, but so have you.”

Joss remembers stalking Gawin's last girlfriend's Instagram during Covid, hating how perfect they seemed together.

“As for why you… why wouldn’t it be you? I’ve wanted you for years,” Joss continues.

Gawin scoffs. “Sure you have.”

“I have!” Joss exclaims.

“Since when?” Gawin asks.

“Since MGB. Maybe longer. Since Covid, maybe. I don't know. It's been there so long it feels like a part of me.” Joss honestly can’t tell where this is going, or how to get to where he wants to be, so he just answers as best he can.

Gawin seems pained. “But we’re so different. You’re… golden bodies, workouts, designer clothes, luxury holidays… assistants… And I’m the same pair of shorts until they fall apart, music, camping… video games, boring.” Gawin’s gaze eases across Joss’s face. “Could you… could you be happy with that? With me? Forever?”

His words hit harder than any punch ever could. “Jesus, G, why are you making it sound like you’re a fucking charity case? As if we’re so misaligned? What about all the stuff we have in common, huh? Or how good we are together? Are you really so against the idea of us becoming more?”

It’s starting to become clear that Gawin isn’t… that Gawin won’t… God, he’ll have to get out of this bed and go back to his father, try not to cry too loudly as he falls apart, before flying back to Bangkok with them all tomorrow. How are they going to make Round One together after this?

Gawin is stricken. “I’m not, Joss, I… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say these words. I’m just trying to make you understand--”

“Understand what, exactly?” Joss demands sharply. “Because all I’m hearing is you listing off all the things I love about you and want to do with you. Yeah, we’re different, but I keep coming to you. I keep trying to meet you. I begged to come camping, I… I’ve started playing piano again, I’m trying. Why do you think I got on a plane to come all the way here, dragged my dad with me, for not even 24 hours with you?”

Gawin’s bottom lip wobbles.

Joss can’t do this anymore. He has to say it. He has to. “G, if it somehow isn’t clear by now… I like you. I like you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with myself. This isn’t ship stuff, this is bigger. Deeper. And I’m really sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, or if I’m overstepping. I just needed to tell you on the off chance you feel like I do.”

Gawin’s mouth drops on a ragged inhale.

Silence reigns between them.

“Please say something,” Joss utters when it’s been too long, of Gawin just staring at him, and he feels as if he’s going to be sick with nerves. “Is this bad? I don’t know what’s going on. I can’t read you.”

“It’s not bad. I’m… I’m just freaking out a bit.” Gawin stops, shoulders tense, everything tense. “Nobody’s ever chosen me like this before. Gone this far, done this much, over and over.” He takes a breath, and then another. “Being with you… fuck, it’s been like a dream. Like a dream I just can’t fucking wake up from. I’m terrified I’m going to wake up, and it’ll be Covid, and you won’t be here, and I’ll be all alone again.”

Joss reaches out a hand, sliding his thumb along the soft sweetness of Gawin’s cheek. “If we wake up and it’s Covid again, I’ll come find you. And I’ll wear you down again, just like I’ve done now.”

Gawin smiles, bringing his hand up to cover Joss’s, lacing their fingers together. “It’s probably my turn to chase you.”

“You chase me? Fuck, I’d love to see that,” Joss grins, and Gawin’s tongue peeks out to wet his lip, eyes dropping to Joss’s mouth, before darting back up.

“So… are we really doing this?” Gawin asks.

Joss nods. “We are, if you want it. Which I’m not really sure about right now, because all you’ve done is tell me how cooked I am for liking you, and all the reasons we don’t work.”

“Sorry,” Gawin says, gaze lowering. “I've wanted this so long. I just needed to know you were sure.”

“G, if anyone should be asking that, it’s me. Are you sure of me?” Joss asks. He has to hear Gawin say it. He can’t be the only one here.

Gawin increases the pressure on his fingers. “I’ve been waiting for you for years, too, J. I’ve wanted you so badly for so fucking long that it’s grown roots in my chest. It’s the undercurrent in the music I write. Whenever I hike… the smell of the woods, the ground, it all reminds me of you. How patient you’ve been with me. Working through our misunderstandings. Your tolerance. All of it. All of you.”

He’s spoken more than Joss has ever heard him talk in one go, as the pain begins to lift in Joss’ chest.

“We’re different, but it isn’t scary because of how much you try to meet me, and how I want to do the same. We spent the whole day together for your birthday.” Gawin gives him a soft, bashful smile. “I wanted you to have the best day with me. I think you did… didn’t you?”

Joss’s smile is dreamy with the memory. "I did. You indulged me all day."

From the gym at the crack of dawn to dinner that night, Gawin had gone along with every ridiculous thing Joss wanted to do without a single complaint.

“So…” Joss trails off. Gawin brings their linked hand to his mouth, lips pressing against the soft skin.

“So.”

“Are we… official, then?” Joss asks.

Gawin wriggles his eyebrows. “Officially what?”

Joss groans, hiding his face. Gawin laughs, machine gun burst, twisting around Joss like a warm hug. “Don’t make me say it. You say it.”

Gawin moves closer, his hands sliding along Joss’s shoulders, tugging him in. He goes, willingly, breathing Gawin in, as they entwine together. God, it feels so good. He feels so complete.

“Yes, we’re officially boyfriends, you big nerd,” Gawin murmurs with a smile in his voice, deep and low against Joss’s ear, delicious and warm. Gawin’s fingers trail along his hip, sliding up under his borrowed t-shirt, splaying across his back. “I get to grope you whenever I want now.”

Joss tries to twist away as Gawin moves to his pecs, getting a handful in each and squeezing. “Ah, G--” he chokes, his face right next to Gawin’s now-- cheeks flushed, hair a mess.

“Hey there,” Gawin says, so fucking fondly, and the way he’s looking at Joss makes him want to cry.

“Hey, baby,” Joss whispers back, leaning in, eyes fluttering closed.

Gawin meets him halfway, and the kiss they share is like seeing God. Despite having kissed so many times on their series he’s lost count; this one… he won’t ever lose count of this one.

Joss takes all Gawin gives to him -- the lust, the devotion, the pain, the confusion, all the time they’ve missed together because of it.

Gawin’s hands are warm and calloused against his chest, sliding along his nipples, making him shiver. He is suddenly, intimately aware of how close they are, and it makes him inhale as Gawin pulls back to nuzzle his neck, wet lips trailing along.

“Uh--G--” Joss gasps, and Gawin licks a hot stripe up the skin.

“If you think I’m not taking advantage of you finally being in my bed, you’re even more cooked than I originally thought,” Gawin rumbles. Joss laughs, can’t help it, as Gawin pushes him on his back, shoving up his sleep shirt and begins to kiss and suck his way along Joss’s chest.

Joss tangles his fingers in Gawin’s silky smooth hair as Gawin finds a nipple, teeth grazing, as he sucks, hard. Joss’s back arches, legs falling open, and Gawin grinds down.

“G, please--” Joss begs, and Gawin moves his perfect, hot, wet mouth to his other nipple, giving him the same treatment.

“Don’t rush me,” is all Gawin says, licking along the line of his pec, following it up into his armpit, breathing him in.

“I’m-- what are you--” Joss splutters, but then Gawin sucks, bites down hard enough to sting, but not quite, and the bolt of white-hot pleasure that arches down Joss’s spine sends him non-verbal.

“Good boy, shut up,” Gawin says, and Joss just fucking lies there, pawing helplessly at Gawin, as his introverted musician boyfriend proceeds to make Joss harder than he’s ever fucking been in his entire 30 years of existence just by sucking on his chest.

He whimpers, he moans, he tries to grind up against Gawin, but he’s an immovable force, stubborn to the marrow of his bones, refusing to give Joss an inch more than he wants to.

He digs his fingers into Joss’s hips as his mouth moves down each ridge of his abs, flexing wildly with Joss’s borderline hyperventilation, keeping any part of him well clear of Joss’s throbbing cock, biting his way around Joss’s belly button, of all fucking things, before moving to leave a litany of hickies on each hip.

“Hickies? What are you, twelve?” Joss gasps. Gawin gives him a look, one that makes him hold up his hands in surrender, and he goes back to leaving the large purple mark he’s sucking on the deep cut of his right hip.

He tugs down Joss’s pants, his cock springing up, almost comical, flushed an angry red at the tip, foreskin rolled back, and weeping steadily. Joss waits for it -- whatever it is -- to come from Gawin.

Gawin raises an eyebrow.

“W-what?” Joss asks.

“Of course you have a pretty cock. If that’s even fucking possible. I bet you’ve made half of Bangkok happy with this weapon.”

Joss glares as Gawin rears back to tug off his own shirt, pushing down his pants. “Are you seriously calling me a slut right now?” he exclaims.

Gawin rolls his eyes and leans forward to kiss him, licking into his mouth and plundering, Joss holding on, until Gawin is satisfied enough to pull back.

“No. Just being jealous of everyone who got to ride this before me.”

Joss’s jaw drops. “W-what?”

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a travel-size lube, popping the cap and grabbing Joss’s hand, drizzling it over two of his fingers. He drapes himself over Joss and guides his hand behind him, pressing the tips to his hole.

“Open me up, big boy,” he croons as he kisses him, Joss’s fingers sinking inside, the angle awkward, but the scorching heat inside so distracting. Familiar in some ways, completely overwhelming in others, Joss is consumed with the need to have his cock in there, immediately.

He grabs the lube, fumbling, the furthest thing from cool or in control, hands shaking as he removes his fingers as gently as he can to coat three of them, pushing back in, Gawin whining against his mouth.

“Joss--” Gawin bites off, and Joss hums, pressing deeper, until Gawin gasps, nails digging into his biceps. “There, there, fuck, more, please--there--”

Joss takes the instruction seriously and proceeds to find his mark inside Gawin until he’s scrabbling at him, thrusting his cock along the marks he made on his hips earlier, the rhythm so familiar.

“Inside, now, now, now.”

Joss wipes the residue on his cock and gazes in wonder as Gawin sits up, reaching behind to grab Joss and guide him, stopping short of pushing completely inside.

“I waited this long for you. I'm not sharing you with anyone ever again,” Gawin says, not breaking his gaze with Joss as he begins to take him in, not wincing, no eyelids fluttering, no reaction at all.

“G--” Joss rasps, and Gawin lets out a shuddering exhale as Joss sinks completely home, buried, to the hilt.

“Hear me.” Gawin’s hands come to rest on Joss’s pecs, squeezing them, biting on his bottom lip as he lifts up and sits back down, both of them moaning loudly.

“Fu-fuck.”

Joss holds on to Gawin’s hips, legs spreading, feet flat on the bed, needing the purchase, but Gawin is controlling everything, and begins to ride Joss like he was fucking made for it.

“You’re mine,” Gawin says. Joss nods.

“Y-yours. Always. Yours.”

“Forever.”

“Yes.”

“Mine. Mine. Mine.”

Possessive little cat, Joss’s mind purrs as Gawin speeds up, his cock slapping against Joss, a red flush making its way down his neck and chest, exertion and desire and embarrassment, perhaps, at being this aggressive, at being this needy.

Joss sits up, wrapping his arms around Gawin’s waist, kissing him, holding him close.

“Yours. And you’re mine.”

Gawin moans, clutching at Joss, as Joss’s hand moves to Gawin’s cock, wet and slick with precome as well.

“I want you to come on me the same time I come in you.”

“Oh-- fuck--” Gawin shudders. “Yes, okay, I will. Please, J.”

“I got you, baby,” Joss whispers, kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip, matching his strokes with Gawin’s grinds, his movements sinful, Joss meeting him every single time.

“God, if you could see yourself,” Joss marvels, sucking his own kisses against the hinge of Gawin’s jaw, biting down a little. “So fucking hot. So fucking perfect for me.”

“Joss,” Gawin whines, burying his face in Joss’s neck.

“What, you can say shit to me, but I can’t say it back?” Joss huffs. Gawin pulls back and looks at him, sweat beading along his hairline, lips slick.

“You’re gonna hear every single crazy thing I’ve ever thought about you… when we’re doing this… so you can’t escape,” Joss says, between each breath.

“Fuck you,” Gawin says.

Joss grins, kissing him. “Uh huh. Fuck you first.”

Gawin’s thrusts get erratic, his eyelashes fluttering as he gets close, and Joss takes over, rolling them so he’s on top, tilting Gawin’s ass up further, so he can pound his prostate, thighs flexing, all the power behind him.

“Joss!” Gawin wails, nails scraping down his back, as he begins to find his peak, arching, eyelids drifting shut. “Fuck-- I’m coming-- uhn, Joss--”

Joss whites out as Gawin’s ass flutters around him, the muscles contracting and expanding with each wave of his orgasm, ushering Joss to find his end, spilling deep inside Gawin, cock kicking, balls tightening, the world exploding.

When he comes back to himself, five seconds or fifty millennia later, he’s on his back, Gawin next to him, both of them gasping as though they’ve just run a marathon.

“Holy… fuck…” Gawin pants.

Joss is completely gassed. His legs are shaking, his cock feels like he detached it and reattached it somehow, completely foreign to him, coated in lube and come, evidence of them finally finding their way to each other.

“J?” Gawin asks, once he’s calmed down enough to speak more.

Joss flaps a hand. “Dead.”

Gawin chuckles, rolling into Joss, a leg hooking over his, his arm looping around Joss’s midsection, nose cool against Joss’s overheated neck.

“I’m too tired to shower.”

“Regret it… later,” Joss gets out.

“Mm, probably. But I kinda want to fall asleep with you still in me. Make it easier to fuck when we wake up.”

Joss shouldn’t be surprised that Gawin’s a freak in bed. Everything about him points to this being a fact. Joss is vanilla as hell -- the kinkiest thing he’s ever done was tying one of his exes up with a tie -- and somehow, he thinks, Gawin is going to open him up to all sorts of crazy shit.

“Don’t call it that,” Joss says instead.

“What? Fuck?” Gawin asks, lifting his head. “What do you wanna call it?”

Joss smiles up at him, eyelids drooping, sore and comfortable at the same time. “I wanna make love to you,” he says, finally catching his breath.

Gawin snorts, but he leans in and kisses Joss, soft and sweet. “Sure, J. We can make love.” He lies back down, tugging the duvet over them, tapping off the light.

“Goodnight, Joss,” he whispers.

“Night, G,” Joss whispers back, holding him tight.

Three floors up, Por is on Facetime with Mae, tucked up in bed, having a quick call before he goes to sleep.

“Where’s Joss?” Mae asks.

Por shrugs. “Must have his own room. Only one bed in here.”

“Hm. Well then, sleep well, Por. I miss you,” she says, the expression on her face saying she thinks more than she’s letting on.

Por’s too tired to bother. He followed his youngest son all the way here for less than twenty-four hours on a romantic pilgrimage he assumes has been successful, given that Joss is nowhere to be found. “Sleep well, Mae. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Make sure you return with him, and he brings Gawin. I want to teach him to cook kua kling. I’ll temper some of the spice, don’t worry,” she says.

“Sure you will. Baptism of fire,” Por chuckles. “Good night. Sweet dreams.”