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Phuwin Tangsakyuen was not a porcelain doll. He wasn't made of sugar, or paper, or any substance that could dissolve in the rain or break with a sigh. However, if anyone observed the way Pond treated him, they would swear Phuwin was the last sacred relic of a lost civilization.
If they walked down the street, Pond always stayed on the side of the traffic. If Phuwin sneezed, Pond appeared with ginger tea and a scarf. If their hands accidentally brushed while reaching for the TV remote, Pond apologized immediately and withdrew his hand as if he had received an electric shock.
Phuwin suppressed a sigh as he watched Pond approach with drinks in hand. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small café they always frequented after class, a quiet place where they could talk without interruptions. Pond was smiling as always, with that smile that made it so easy to fall in love with him.
"Here you go," Pond said, placing the drink in front of Phuwin, their fingers grazing briefly.
Pond sat across from him, as they always did when they were alone, with his puppy eyes looking at him with affection.
"Thanks," Phuwin replied, swirling the drink in his hands as if that could calm his heart.
«Damn, he looks so fucking attractive,» he thought. «If only he looked at me like that while he’s under me...» Phuwin quickly cut off that train of thought, reminding himself that Pond was right in front of him.
"Are you okay?" Pond asked softly, leaning in a bit toward him.
"I'm fine... just a little tired, the exams are getting to me."
Pond smiled, but couldn't help but frown slightly, as if he wanted to make sure Phuwin really was okay. His hand moved unconsciously toward a strand of Phuwin's hair that was covering one of his eyes and tucked it away gently. They both stayed there, looking at each other for a moment that seemed like an eternity.
"You're always so focused..." Pond said softly. "Sometimes I wonder if you remember that you also need to rest."
That comment, so simple, carried an unexpected weight. There was a hidden tenderness in the way Pond looked at him, a silent care that spoke of something deeper than friendship.
"Do you want to go to my condo?" Pond asked suddenly, as if impulse had triumphed over doubt. "You can rest there, it's closer."
"Yes, I'd like that."
Pond nodded and then stood up, taking his backpack and, as was customary, Phuwin's as well. It was normal between them; Pond always carried Phuwin's things—backpacks, bags, coats; it happened naturally.
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The way to the condominium was silent. Phuwin drank his coffee as if swallowing his frustration, and Pond had a small battle with himself.
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The silence in Pond's apartment wasn't peaceful; it was dense, charged with a static that made Phuwin's skin prickle. It didn't take long for them both to sit on the sofa, close enough to feel each other's heat, but far enough that the gap between their bodies felt like an abyss. Pond had told him to rest, but Phuwin suggested watching a movie, and of course, in Pond’s vocabulary, the word "No" didn't exist for Phuwin.
Pond was focused on the TV screen, looking for a movie. Phuwin's eyes began to roam over him. Pond was a living sculpture: broad shoulders that filled the black t-shirt, toned arms that revealed prominent veins every time he moved, that sharp jawline. His scrutiny stopped at his hands—those big, strong hands that always held him in crowded places—his long fingers, which he had thought about so many times.
Every time Phuwin moved, every time he sighed or stretched his legs, Pond reacted with an exasperating courtesy.
"Are you cold, Phu? Do you want me to turn off the AC?" Pond asked, his voice soft, loaded with a tenderness that, in any other context, would have been adorable.
Phuwin clenched his fists on his thighs. "No, Pond. I'm fine."
"Are you hungry? I can order something to eat, whatever you want. I don't want you to be uncomfortable."
Uncomfortable. The word echoed in Phuwin's head like an insult. He wasn't uncomfortable because of the environment; he was agonizing over the distance. They had been like this for months. Since their friendship had mutated into something deeper—something everyone around them noticed except for them out loud—Pond had transformed into a Victorian-era gentleman. He treated him with a delicacy that bordered on insulting. He touched him as if Phuwin were a piece of porcelain from some dynasty that might break if he pressed a millimeter too hard.
Phuwin wanted to scream at him and shake him, tell him to stop treating him like that, to push him onto the bed and do whatever he wanted with him, to bend him over a piece of furniture when Phuwin teased him and simply put him in his place.
But he didn't say it. Instead, he simply nodded, forced a smile, and swallowed his desires, feeling more and more like an exhibit in a museum: «Fragile. Can look, but do not touch with too much force.»
To Pond, Phuwin was the most sacred thing he had. And that was precisely the problem. Pond was terrified. Every time he looked at Phuwin, he saw a future he didn't want to ruin. He was convinced that if he took a wrong step, if he let his hands wander where his mind already resided every night, Phuwin would get scared and he would lose him forever. He couldn't conceive of the idea that Phuwin could desire him with the same dark, desperate intensity with which he desired him. So, he decided that respect was his only armor.
But for Phuwin, that respect was a solitary confinement cell. Phuwin desired Pond with an intensity that caused physical stabs in his lower abdomen. There were nights when the desire was so sharp it made his chest ache, a constant pressure of unspoken words and contained caresses. He wanted Pond to grab him by the waist with the strength of someone afraid to lose him. He wanted his large hands to leave marks on his skin. He wanted him to stop being "Good Friend Pond" and become the man who devoured his personal space.
Fed up, he created a plan to cut that stupid line separating friendly love and romantic love. Phuwin decided that if Pond wouldn't cross the line, he would erase the line entirely.
"I'm fine, Pond, but it's a bit hot..." Phuwin murmured, letting the blanket slide off his shoulders.
He stood up and took off his sweatshirt. Underneath, he wore nothing but a white tank top, absurdly thin and a bit small for him, which left much of his chest and collarbones exposed.
The air in the room became heavy, charged with a tension that Pond tried to ignore by keeping his eyes fixed on the TV screen, though his eyes wandered without his permission to look at Phuwin.
And fuck, Phuwin was always absolutely beautiful; today he looked like a dessert he could devour. Pond wanted to look at him more, but his conscience reproached him that this wasn't how you looked at friends—that the thoughts Pond had about Phuwin were not friendly.
To Pond, Phuwin was a work of art in a display case. To Phuwin, Pond was the man he needed to destroy him in the best possible way.
Phuwin didn't stop there. With a slow and deliberate movement, he sat back down on the sofa, but not in his original spot. He slid until he was just inches from Pond, feeling the heat emanating from the older man's body.
"Phi Pond?" Phuwin called, softening his voice until it sounded like silk.
Pond swallowed hard, feeling his pants tightening.
"Tell me..."
The air in the room became so dense that Pond felt he could barely breathe. His pupils were beginning to dilate, and his hands, resting on his thighs, gripped the fabric of his pants with a force that betrayed his internal struggle.
Phuwin noticed the tension. He liked it. He was tired of the hair caresses that felt like an older brother's and the forehead kisses that tasted like goodbye.
"Have you picked a movie yet?" Phuwin asked, his voice vibrating directly against the skin of Pond's neck as he rested his chin on his shoulder.
He circled Pond's arm with a calculated slowness. With his fingertips, Phuwin began to trace the path of the prominent veins running along the older man's forearm, moving up from the wrist to the crook of the elbow. The contact made the hair on the back of Pond's neck stand up instantly.
"Mmm, I found an action one..." Pond almost whispered, feeling his throat go dry. He tried to focus on the screen, but it was impossible when he felt Phuwin's fingertips pressing gently over the contours of his skin, following the map of Pond's veins.
Phuwin didn't settle for the arm. He slid his hand down until his fingers began to outline each knuckle, measuring the difference in size between their hands. With his thumb, Phuwin stroked Pond's palm in slow circles, while his other hand toyed with pressing the tendons on the back of Pond's hand.
Phuwin let out a low chuckle against Pond's ear. "Your hands are so tense, Phi. Why don't you relax?"
Pond's hand, which until that moment had remained motionless out of pure terror of losing control, finally reacted. He closed his fist, trapping Phuwin's fingers in a firm, almost possessive grip.
Pond let out a shaky breath, his free hand clutching the sofa cushion so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Phuwin... the movie already started," Pond managed to articulate, though his voice sounded more like a plea than an observation.
"No one is watching the screen, Phi," Phuwin replied, lowering Pond's hand and guiding it, with an intention that left no room for doubt, toward his own exposed thigh. "Do you really want to keep pretending you care about the end of the movie?"
"What are you talking about?"
If Pond wanted to be a gentleman, Phuwin would be the villain who corrupted him.
"Pond, look at me," Phuwin said. His voice was no longer soft; it was a challenge. "I'm fed up, Pond. I'm fed up with you being so damn good."
Pond blinked, completely bewildered by the outburst. "What are you talking about? I'm trying to take care of you, you're my best friend, I respect you—"
"Then stop respecting me so much!" Phuwin interrupted him. The sentence left his mouth before he could filter it, but once out, it felt incredibly good. "Please, I'm begging you... You treat me like I'm a damn flower that's going to wither if someone raises their voice. I can't take it anymore. Touch me, rough me up, make me forget my name."
The silence that followed was deathly. Pond opened his mouth and closed it again, processing the words.
"What?" Pond managed to say.
"You heard me." Phuwin took another step forward, cornering Pond against the sofa. "I want you to stop being so damn careful. I want you to grab me hard. I want you to stop asking me if 'I'm okay' every five seconds when what I want is for you to leave me breathless. Disrespect me, Pond. Treat me as if you’re going to lose me if you don’t hold onto me with all your strength."
Pond swallowed hard. "Do you know what you're asking, Phuwin?" Pond's voice was no longer that of his friend. It was a deep, dangerous vibration, loaded with a possessivity that had been hidden under layers of politeness.
"I know," he replied.
"If I start... if I stop being 'good,' I won't be able to stop. I don't know how to be gentle when it comes to how much I desire you. I've spent years imagining what it would be like to have you under me without having to apologize for every inch."
"Then don't apologize. This is exactly what I want," Phuwin interrupted, his voice now a desperate plea. "Please. I beg you. If you treat me like porcelain one more time, I'm going to scream. Break me a little, Phi Pond. Show me that you desire me more than you venerate me."
Phuwin lunged at him, not to hit him, but to trap him. He sat astride Pond's thighs.
The air left Pond's lungs. His hands rose instinctively to hold Phuwin's waist, but they stopped millimeters from touching him, hovering in the air as if he feared profaning him.
"Phuwin..."
Phuwin took Pond's hands and, with a strength Pond didn't expect, forced them to close over his own waist, pressing them against his skin. "Touch me. For real. I'm not some damn porcelain, Pond. I'm a man. And I desire you."
Pond felt the world spin. The contact of Phuwin's skin under his palms was like pure electricity.
"You don't know what you're saying," Pond said, his voice now a low roar, a warning. "You're confused. If I cross this line, there's no turning back. I won't be able to go back to just being your friend."
Phuwin leaned forward, brushing his lips against Pond's ear, letting his warm breath prickle his skin.
"That's exactly what I want. Please. I beg you. Treat me badly, do what you want with my body, kiss me until I can't breathe. If you treat me with care one more time, I'm going to scream."
The self-control Pond had built over years began to crack. The image of Phuwin—disheveled, semi-naked, and begging to be fucked—was the finishing blow. That was the last straw.
Pond's gaze changed. The softness vanished, replaced by a dark hunger he had been repressing for years. His hands no longer hovered; they dug into Phuwin's waist, squeezing with a force that would probably leave marks, and Phuwin let out a moan that was half surprise and half pure relief.
"You asked for it, Phuwin," Pond growled.
In one fluid motion, Pond reversed their positions. In a second, Phuwin was on his back against the sofa and Pond was over him, pinning him down with his large body. There was no tenderness in the kiss that followed. It was hunger. Pond was hungry, like a man drinking water after years in the desert. His tongue invaded Phuwin's mouth, exploring anxiously, a desperation that had been contained for too long.
Pond kissed Phuwin as if he were trying to consume him. One of Pond's hands moved up to tangle in Phuwin's hair, pulling back slightly to expose his neck, while the other hand slid under his shirt.
"Is this what you wanted?" Pond asked against his skin, his voice rough, as he bit his earlobe, then moved down to his neck to bite gently, licking over it to soothe the pain.
"Yes..." Phuwin gasped, arching his back, finally feeling Pond's real weight over him. "More. Don't stop, please."
The only thing heard in the room was their heavy breathing and anxious moans. Pond was no longer the silent protector; he was a man possessed. Every time Phuwin tried to say something, Pond silenced him with kisses that tasted like possession. His hands, once so afraid to touch, now explored every corner of Phuwin's body with an authority that made the younger man tremble from head to toe.
"You were driving me crazy," Pond whispered, his forehead resting against Phuwin's while they both caught their breath for a second. "Every time you smiled at me, every time you got close... I thought I was going to lose my mind if I didn't make you mine. But I was so afraid of hurting you."
Phuwin smiled between gasps, his eyes bright with triumph and desire. "Do I look hurt, Pond?"
Pond looked down. Phuwin's body was flushed, his hair messy, his lips swollen, and his eyes clouded with pleasure, shining with triumph. He looked devastated, but in the best way possible. Pond's cock stirred in his pants at the sight of him in that state.
"You're perfect," he whispered. "But don't expect me to be the same as before. Now that I know how you feel under my hands, I'm never going to stop touching you like this."
"Thank you," Phuwin murmured, wrapping his legs around Pond's waist, pulling him even closer. "Because if you ever ask me if I need a sweater again, I'm going to hit you."
Pond let out a dry laugh, one Phuwin had never heard from him before.
"You're not going to need a sweater, Phuwin. I'll keep you warm enough."
His large hands began to undress Phuwin, leaving him naked. Pond's pupils were dilated as he admired Phuwin. "You're like a work of art, beautiful, you're so perfect"—only praises for him left his mouth.
His hands, eager to touch him, roamed over his abdomen, sending a shiver through Phuwin. Pond leaned toward his hardened nipples and while he began to lick one, his hand toyed with the other.
Pond sucked his nipple into his mouth, moving his tongue and grazing with his teeth to the rhythm of Phuwin's moans. Phuwin's cock twitched, asking for attention, and without stopping his tongue on the nipple, Pond stroked with a torturous slowness from his belly down until grabbing his cock, brushing the tip with his fingers, collecting the pre-cum that was already dripping. Phuwin let out a sob and cursed even more when Pond withdrew his hand and began to smear the pre-cum on both nipples. It was wet and musky under his tongue, which excited Pond even more; he didn't even care about the ache in his own cock, all that was in his head was: Phuwin.
It was like releasing a wild animal he didn't even know existed, and Phuwin was completely overwhelmed by Pond's eager lips closing and alternating around both nipples, sucking him into his warm mouth while his tongue circled with hunger. He began to pump his cock—hard, throbbing, and writhing in his palm.
He didn't stop, couldn't stop; Phuwin's moans were like a siren's song drawing in pirates, his body tense like a violin string about to break under his care. He moaned even louder when Pond whispered: "You're so good for me, I'll take such good care of you, so good."
His eyes were closed, mouth half-open letting his pretty moans escape. Pond's hand moved up and down at an even faster pace, with his lips alternating their attention around his nipples.
"Come for me, darling," he whispered in a coaxing voice.
Phuwin's cock slid dripping in his hand, his chest glistening with Pond's saliva, reddened where he used his teeth. Phuwin writhed and trembled until he exploded in thick threads in his palm, making a mess on the sheets and his belly.
Pond had never heard him make that kind of noise before; it resonated in his ears like the sweetest melody.
"You did well, darling," Pond said, then kissed Phuwin's forehead. Phuwin couldn't say anything as he was trying to regulate his heavy breathing.
Pond began to undress quickly, his cock jumping excitedly with pre-cum already dripping, and he settled between Phuwin's open legs. He was soaked, his own release sliding between his thighs, and it was the most arousing thing he had ever seen.
He spread his cheeks and dove in without hesitation. Phuwin moaned, throwing his head back. "Yes... like that nngh, more"—he pressed deeper, his tongue licking the entrance, pushing inside with wet, insistent thrusts. He rocked against his face, rubbing himself while eating him like a hungry man. Phuwin panted and reached out a hand to grab Pond's hair.
"Deeper. Eat me like you mean it." Pond obeyed, sucking and exploring, his lips sealed around the twitching muscle. His body shook, muscles tightening around his tongue, and he could hear his breath hitch. His hole stirred under the assault. His tongue went between his thighs, licking his essence, biting and leaving marks, only to return and continue his assault.
While savoring every tremor, Pond's hand grabbed his overstimulated cock again and began to pump once more. When he came, it was with a guttural moan, hot spurts landing on his abs while his hole pulsed around his tongue.
"Look at you, you look so cute like this," Pond murmured, then sweetly kissed Phuwin's cheek.
Phuwin couldn't even answer; his mind was in the clouds.
"Phi," he whispered as he caught his breath.
"We're not done yet, my love."
Pond's mouth pressed against Phuwin's again, their tongues dancing an erotic dance. Taking advantage of the stimulation, Pond's hand went down to Phuwin's entrance and easily slipped a finger in, earning a lewd moan from him.
"Fuck, don't stop, please." Pond smiled, slowly sliding another finger in. Two of his fingers moved in and out slowly, and oh, it was a heavenly sensation.
"Stay still for me, darling"—the praise went straight to his cock, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"Pond," he let out a sob. "It's too much... I need you inside me, please Phi..."
Phuwin could no longer stand Pond being the definition of: "making you come four times is foreplay." He needed him inside or he would fade away.
He slid inside his eager entrance. Phuwin gasped at the intrusion, the head of his cock forcing its way in. Pond moaned as he felt the tightness around his member. He lifted one of his legs and placed it over his shoulder for more access.
"Shit, you're such a provocative little thing, haaa, you look so damn delicious," Pond babbled.
The new angle made his length hit his prostate with every thrust, forcing a loud moan from his lips. Pond savored every reaction, every little noise Phuwin made. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a string of confused noises. His brain had turned to mush from how well Pond was fucking him.
Soon he felt the orgasm flooding him, but Pond didn't stop; instead, he penetrated him harder, forming a bulge in his stomach with every thrust. Pond's hand pressed down while letting out a dry laugh, and Phuwin arched in ecstasy.
He kept thrusting until he reached climax. As he came, his thrusts began to turn erratic. He emptied his seed into him, staining his warm walls white.
Both stayed still for a moment, catching their breath, trying to calm their racing hearts. Pond kissed Phuwin's cheek softly. "You did great, darling."
He pulled out slowly and then picked him up. "Let's get you cleaned up," was what he said as he carried him to the bathroom.
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They quickly reached the bathtub and Pond laid him down delicately, turned on the tap, and let the water run.
"Are you okay? Does anything hurt? After we clean up, I'll make you something to eat," Pond spoke worriedly.
"I'm fine, I'm more than fine." Phuwin simply smiled.
Pond sighed in relief before also getting into the tub. "Tell me if anything hurts and—"
But he couldn't continue as Phuwin silenced him with a sweet kiss. "I told you to stop treating me like I'm porcelain."
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Pond held Phuwin in his arms, Phuwin's head resting comfortably on Pond's chest. His hands, though still big and strong, had regained their usual softness, but it was a different kind of softness: that of an owner who knows every corner of his most precious treasure.
There was a comfortable silence until Phuwin felt Pond's hesitation, wanting to apologize for being "too rough."
"Don't you dare," Phuwin warned, guessing his thoughts.
Pond smiled, a sweet smile that had nothing to do with his actions of a moment ago, and simply stroked Phuwin's bare back.