Chapter Text
And on the Lower East Side you're dancing with me now
And I'm taking pictures of you with flowers on the wall
I think I like you best when you're dressed in black from head to toe
I think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else
Keng 𐦖*•
For 9Entertain Awards, Namping looks lethal. In all black, the silk ribbon around his neck accentuating the deep V-cut of his shirt, bringing out the flawless expanse of his skin.
As always, the outfit is special for the sole reason Namping is the one wearing it. It merely complements his natural aura, the intrinsic grace and allure that sweep people off their feet and keep Keng on his toes.
The make-up fits him perfectly and, along with that cheeky, flimsy ribbon, is what Keng thinks will be his final undoing. He looks fresh, enticing, radiating confidence and otherworldly beauty. It's in the dewy glow of his skin, the rosy tint of his cheeks, the feistiness in his eyes, the torment of his full lips glistening with that wet gloss. It's in the fluffy hair framing his face, fashionably undone, but Keng knows what his 'undone' really looks like. Every small detail makes the whole picture all the more enticing. He looks ripe, but Harit will be the only one doing the taking.
Throughout the day, he keeps getting distracted by that ribbon fluttering down Namping's back. He wonders what it'd be like to tie it around his head like a blindfold and tease him until he is a needy, trembling mess.
It's a long event and Namping fidgets, playing with his hand, whispering into his ear, the smell of his perfume clinging to him with how much nong presses and leans and practically rubs himself on him when no one sees.
For Keng, just admiring him is calming. That and idly sifting through all the possible ways he could use that scarf, for wrong purposes only, in the privacy of his mind.
The energy between them is different tonight. It's charged but not tense, their shared bond strong and steady. Namping understands what kind of effect he has on him, and edges him subtly throughout the night. Keng welcomes it. The others' eyes on Namping don't bother him tonight, he only makes sure that Namping can feel the weight of his own gaze.
The arousal is thick and lingering, throbbing under his skin. It's sweetened by the quiet confidence that Namping is his. He'll have him tonight. He wants him, and he'll have him.
It's obvious in the subtle way Namping seduces him, taking up his space, giving him those long looks with his glittering eyes.
"You're so needy," he rasps into his ear, just because he can.
Namping blushes and huffs, his chin jutting up. "You wish."
He pats his inner thigh, and the little one promptly melts into the touch. He leaves his hand there, thumb stroking a sensitive patch of skin through the clothing. Namping squirms a little but doesn't move away. He then puts his hand in his, interlocking their fingers.
When Keng turns to look at him, he's wearing a fragile kind of smile that immediately tugs at his heart.
He squeezes Namping's hand.
They win the award—something that Keng has foretold, but it still feels tentative until the very last minute.
For a moment, the happiness outshines everything else. He feels for Namping deeply. He cherishes every milestone they have reached together, every victory they shared between them.
Namping really is a shining star—in the way he looks, the way he speaks, the way he dazzles.
He loves him tender but possessive, he wants the special little twinkle in the star's eyes to belong only to him.
Namping sits half in his lap in the car, squirming until he tucks his face in the crook of his neck, and exhales. He melts in his arms, as if all tension just left his body.
Shivering from the sensation of Namping's breath on his skin, and overwhelmed with aching tenderness at this casual display of complete trust, he tugs him closer.
"Keng?"he sounds soft and mellow, like a small kitten.
I see how it is. He goaded me all night, but now he's all demure and gentle.
"Mmhm?"
"You were staring at that ribbon."
Oh. There he is—his Ping.
He grins roguishly. "I was thinking of tying you up."
Namping is unfazed.
"It won't hold. Maybe use your belt."
His breath hitches.
Namping really is bold today.
Almost as if he's asking for something.
"What else do I need to use my belt for?" he asks, his voice gravelly and tight.
"What do you think?" Namping ducks his head, coy. His elegant fingers toy with his sleeve.
Namping is so affectionate and giddy it makes him think of the tipsy birthday sex, a night spent in their own cocoon of Namping's tender warmth and Keng's deep devotion.
That had been so gentle, so soft. Tonight, he wants to ruin him.
"What are you thinking about?" Namping asks.
"Fucking you on your bithday."
The confession slips out on its own, driven by curiousity about his reaction.
Namping smiles slowly, looking like a big wild cat just before striking its prey with a soft, deadly paw.
"Still that? Isn't there something else to look forward to?" Namping rubs his warm cheek on his neck—he's flustered but the urge to fluster Keng back clearly wins over.
He plays along. "Yeah? What is that?"
"Fucking me on shining star day." He frowns cutely, thinking, "Am I spoiling you too much? Or is it that we have a lot of occasions to… celebrate?"
"It's the occasions," he asnwers quickly, and Namping laughs.
"So…" he drawls, "you want a reward today?"
That single word, reward, sends a shiver down his spine.
He mouths, "For?"
Namping giggles softly. "For being a green flag."
Oh? Was he, really?
"Ping," he starts emphatically, "I still want to punch everyone who as much as looks at you."
Namping smiles a small private smile as if he just told him he looks pretty in his shirt, not admitted to being a jealous jerk.
"But you don't," Namping argues, bent on protecting his honor for some unfathomable reason.
"I want to, though," he admits miserably.
"You should."
That knocks him off balance. Namping does joke about preferring a red flag, and he knows what he likes in the bedroom, but to state that so plainly instead of scolding him—this is something he's still getting used to.
"I… should?"
"You should want that. If you love me."
What kind a statement is that, any sane person would ask.
Keng however is on cloud nine, so much so that if he had a tail, he'd be waggling it now.
"I love you." He doesn't hesitate a second, the words come out in a rush and Namping blushes, hard.
He has a feeling that this reward has nothing to do with anything green. As it happens, Namping is saying one thing but means the opposite.
He can't help but tease, "What happened to steady love though? You want me to punch people now?"
Namping shakes his head, mouth curling into a slight, adorable pout.
"I don't. But I love it when you get all territorial. It's the thought that counts."
He barks out a laugh. "You're unbelievable."
He's never been this glad for the partition in his life, the intimacy that gets this charged barter flowing, revelatory in the best way.
"I love you too, Hayit," Namping presses his lips to his soundly, a lingering smooch that accentuates the words.
"Mmhm." He catches his chin and deepens it, getting the first taste of Namping's sweetness after a long night. He's addicted to the way Namping opens his mouth, going all pliant but licking him back as soon as he slips his tongue in. They kiss wetly, the slick sound of it making him think of his fingers squelching inside when Namping is all loose and wet. Fuck, he wants him so much. Surely Namping can feel it.
"Don't complain that I don't say it anymore," Namping whispers in his mouth.
He smirks dazedly. "I dare you to say it… in front of everyone."
Namping tsks. "Don't bait me like that, it won't work."
He lowers his tone, keeping it deep and suggestive as he adds,
"But you'll get your reward when we get home."