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The tension that had been building up since Duang’s room finally found an escape valve. As soon as the bathroom door closed, isolating them from the hallway and Funan’s bedroom right next door, the silence of the house seemed to give way to an almost palpable electricity.
Qin didn’t wait. With a naturalness that caught Duang completely off guard, he began shedding his clothes, leaving them in a corner. Duang, whose heart was already racing from the appearances he had been forced to maintain in the living room, simply couldn't resist. The contrast of Qin’s skin against the soft bathroom light was the trigger.
In a swift movement, Duang stripped out of his own clothes and stepped forward, closing any remaining distance. He came up from behind, wrapping his arms around Qin’s waist, feeling the immediate heat of that proximity.
"You are all mine," Duang whispered, his voice deeper than usual, before pressing his lips against Qin’s neck.
His hands began to glide over Qin’s body, mapping every curve with a restrained urgency. When Duang’s teeth lightly pressed into the soft skin of his shoulder, Qin let out a breathless little laugh, trying to gently dodge him.
"Duang... don't bite," Qin complained, though his tone lacked any real sign of protest.
In response, Duang slowly turned him around and gently nudged him until Qin’s back met the cold tiles of the wall, creating a thermal contrast that made Qin catch his breath. Duang devoured him with his eyes, fixing his gaze on every detail of Qin’s face and body, as if he were standing before the greatest treasure in the world.
"Just a little taste," Duang pleaded, his voice hoarse, almost a whine.
He leaned in and kissed him. It was a simple, quick kiss, but so heavy with promise that it made Qin’s legs weaken for a second. When they pulled back just a fraction, only enough for their lips to keep brushing against each other, Duang closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Qin’s.
"I can't take this anymore," Duang confessed, his breath short.
Qin opened his eyes, looking at him with a mix of amusement and disbelief.
"You are simply...", Qin began, letting the sentence die in the air, as if words failed to describe the effect Duang had on him.
Sensing the hesitation, Duang used his best puppy-dog eyes.
"Please?"
Qin let out a low laugh, completely disarmed by that dramatic look that blended pure desire with an almost childish neediness. The contrast was ridiculous, but it worked perfectly on him.
"You're unreal, Duang," Qin whispered, rolling his eyes affectionately before yielding completely. He threw his arms around Duang’s neck, pulling him down and breaking the little distance left between them with a deep, slow, and possessive kiss that served as a definitive answer.
Duang let out a low sound, a mix of relief and triumph, as his hands found Qin’s waist again, pressing their naked bodies together so tightly they could feel each other's racing heartbeats.
A few meters away, in the hallway, the muffled sound of footsteps indicated that Funan had left his room, likely heading to the kitchen. The noise made Qin freeze instantly mid-kiss, his wide eyes locked onto Duang’s. The realization of where they were—and who was on the other side of the wall—brought a rush of adrenaline that made both of their blood boil.
Duang quickly reached out and turned the shower handle. Warm water began to cascade heavily, hitting the tiled floor and instantly rising into a thick mist of steam that fogged up the mirror and the glass of the shower stall, completely isolating them from the rest of the house.
Duang pulled Qin under the flow of water. The warm droplets soaked Qin’s hair immediately, plastering the dark strands to his forehead and running down his neck, chest, and abdomen, tracing glistening paths on skin that was already covered in goosebumps. The suffocating heat of the water contrasted with the chill still emanating from the walls, creating a stifling, dense atmosphere heavy with desire.
Without rushing, but with an unyielding determination, Duang poured liquid soap onto his palms, working up a light, slick lather. The sensation of that wet, warm touch on skin triggered a sudden memory in Duang’s mind, making him vividly recall the first time they had showered together at Qin’s apartment, right after their first kiss; the same blend of shyness and urgent desire seemed to echo right there.
He began to caress Qin’s chest, moving down his abdomen and feeling every muscle contract beneath his touch, until his warm, wet fingers wrapped entirely around Qin’s length. It was already fully erect, rigid and pulsing against his stomach. Qin let out a ragged sigh, tossing his head back against the damp tiles while Duang began a firm, rhythmic stroking motion, moving up and down with smooth pressure.
Kneeling on the wet, slippery floor of the shower stall, Duang didn't break eye contact for a single second. With one hand, he set the pace as he pleasured Qin, feeling his skin grow hotter and more sensitive by the second. With his other hand, Duang reached for himself, joining both bodies in a synchronized, heavy, and wet rhythm. The sound of wet hands frictioning against aroused skin mingled with the constant drumming of the water on the floor.
"Duang...", Qin murmured, his voice faltering as his hands sought support, palms flat against the tiled wall to keep his balance. His knees buckled slightly as the electricity of pleasure surged up his legs.
Duang knew that time was a dangerous luxury, and the imminence of being caught only made everything more urgent. He brought his free fingers to his mouth, wetting them generously with his own saliva and mixing it with the warm water trickling down his arms. With a firm, possessive move, he lifted one of Qin’s legs, resting the crook of his knee securely over his own shoulder to open up space and fully expose him, leaving a tender kiss on his knee.
"Easy... relax for me, take a deep breath," Duang whispered, his hoarse voice echoing low and vibrating inside the shower stall.
Slowly, millimeter by millimeter, Duang began to push his first finger inside. Qin’s internal heat and tight pressure tightly gripped Duang’s finger. Duang kept his finger completely still for a few seconds, giving Qin’s muscles time to stretch and get used to his presence, before beginning a slow rotating, in-and-out motion, massaging the inner walls with the tip of his finger. When he felt the resistance ease slightly, Duang partially withdrew and slid a second finger in alongside the first, expanding Qin’s limits with surgical care, yet with an unyielding firmness that left no room for retreat.
Qin bit his bottom lip so hard he nearly drew blood, desperately fighting to stifle the moans and gasps that threatened to burst from his throat because of the bedroom next door. The physical sensation of Duang’s two fingers moving deep inside him, stretching him and pressing against the most sensitive spots of his internal anatomy, combined with Duang’s hand which continued to stroke him out front in a fast, tight, and relentless grip, was a sensory overload almost oppressive in its intensity.
"Look at me, Ter," Duang commanded, looking up, the shower water hitting his face and his dark eyes entirely consumed by obsession.
Qin lowered his gaze with effort, his eyes clouded, heavy, and unfocused from pure pleasure, locking onto Duang’s face. Seeing Qin’s total surrender and vulnerability under his command made whatever control Duang had left vanish completely. He accelerated the motion of his fingers inside, curling them slightly upward to press firmly against the exact spot that ripped a hoarse, drawn-out, and ragged moan from Qin, impossible to contain.
The pace of their mutual stimulation became frantic and desperate, fueled by the stifling heat of the steam and the danger of the situation. Duang stroked Qin’s length with force and speed, while using his other hand to stimulate himself in the same aggressive, frantic rhythm. Sweat and water mixed on their skin, turning the friction into something purely carnal.
Qin began to shudder violently, his hips moving involuntarily against Duang’s hands, desperately chasing immediate relief from that unbearable tension. The climax hit like an overwhelming shockwave. Qin arched his entire body, digging his nails hard into Duang’s wet shoulders as he released his warm seed in intense spurts between Duang’s fingers and the shower floor, his whole body trembling with long, involuntary spasms.
Silence settled over the bathroom once more, broken only by the steady, comforting sound of the falling water and the heavy, noisy sound of their breathing. Duang kept his head rested against Qin’s thigh, his gaze full of admiration and pure lust, though still carrying that playful tone from before. He loved giving Qin pleasure.
The fog of steam began to slowly dissipate. Qin remained leaning against the wall, his chest heaving as he tried to recover. He looked down at Duang, who was still smiling up at him with pleased puppy-dog eyes.
"So...", Qin began, his voice still a bit raspy but full of provocation. "Was that your 'just a little taste'?"
"I can't help it if you're irresistible," Duang justified himself, grabbing one of the hanging towels and tossing it to Qin before taking another for himself. "And technically, that was just a taste. I haven't come yet."
Qin opened his mouth to reply, but Duang’s revelation caught him completely off guard, making him let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh against his own hand. Duang’s audacity, mixed with that pleading expression and the fact that he had focused entirely on Qin’s pleasure first, was almost absurd.
"You are unbelievable, Duang," Qin whispered, shaking his head as he grabbed the towel and dried himself in a hurry, feeling the heat of his own body still pulsing beneath his damp skin. "Then we better get out of here right now."
They dried off haphazardly, urgency shaping every movement. Qin finished first and, demonstrating quick reflexes to avoid being caught red-handed in the middle of the hallway, Duang opened the bathroom door silently. After making sure no one was there, Qin crossed the small space in the blink of an eye and bolted into Duang’s room right across the hall, slipping into the safety of the shadows.
Duang followed close behind, trying to gather the towels and used clothes all at once. However, his haste worked against him. As he tried to pull the bathroom door shut behind him without letting the latch click, his fingers slipped on the damp wood.
The loud thud of the door slamming too hard echoed through the silent hallway like a gunshot.
Duang froze on the spot, his eyes wide and his heart leaping into his throat. He took two quick, desperate steps toward his own room, but before he could turn the knob, the dry click of another lock opening cut through the silence.
The door to the adjacent room opened slowly. Funan appeared, looking suspicious. He glanced down the hallway, then toward the bathroom, and finally locked his eyes onto Duang, who was trying to play dumb while clutching a tangled pile of clothes.
Funan didn't say a single word. Instead, he arched an eyebrow and made a "dining" gesture with his mouth and hand, while casting a knowing look at his younger brother—one loaded with mockery and the absolute, surgical certainty of exactly what had been going on in there just minutes ago.
Duang felt the blood rush straight to his cheeks. He flashed a completely awkward smile, shrugging his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to look innocent, and practically threw himself into his own room, closing the door with a quick, but this time controlled, thud.
He leaned his back against the wood, letting out the breath he had been holding. In the darkness of the room, Qin was already waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the bed, smothering his laughter with a hand over his mouth after overhearing the entire ordeal.
"Tell me he didn't see you," Qin whispered, his eyes gleaming with amusement in the dim light.
"Worse," Duang grumbled, tossing the bundle of damp towels and clothes into some random corner of the hardwood floor. "He looked right at my face. With that mocking expression only Funan can pull off."
Qin let out a short, muffled laugh, shaking his head. "I told you you'd mess up with that door."
"It's your fault," Duang countered, crossing the room with long strides. The embarrassment of being caught vanished in a second, replaced by that same intensity that had nearly brought the bathroom down. He stopped right in front of Qin, looking down at him. "You distract me."
Qin looked up, holding his gaze, and let his ironic smile slowly fade away. He stretched his arms back, propping his weight on his hands against the mattress, leaving his body completely exposed in the faint light filtering through the window.
"And now, Ter?" Qin broke the silence, his voice dropping to a soft tone, a direct challenge as he held Duang’s gaze in the penumbra.
Duang didn't answer with words. The fuse had already been lit in the bathroom, and Qin’s confident tone was all it took for him to lose whatever sanity he had left. He moved quickly, climbing onto the bed on his knees until he pinned Qin against the mattress. The weight of his body trapped Qin beneath him, a physical, raw, and hot possessiveness that knocked the air from both of their lungs. His hands went straight to the back of Qin’s neck, his fingers tangling in the dark hair that still held the moisture and scent of the soap, pulling him up urgently.
The kiss that followed was the complete opposite of what had happened under the shower. There was no room for gentleness or hesitation. It was a ravenous clash of lips and tongues, a rhythm dictated by the need that had been building up ever since they stepped into Duang’s old bedroom earlier. Qin gasped against his mouth, matching his force, while their naked bodies pressed together entirely from chest to thigh. Duang’s rigid length pressed against the side of Qin’s thigh, hot and pulsing, a vivid reminder that he had focused solely on his partner's pleasure inside.
When the kiss broke with a wet snap, Duang didn't pull away. He rested his forehead against Qin’s, their heavy, ragged breathing cutting through the absolute silence of the room.
"Your turn," Duang requested, his voice husky, almost a command as he tried to catch his breath.
Qin smiled sideways, his eyes shining in the dark. His hands slid up Duang’s broad chest, feeling his heart pounding like a wild drum, until his fingers gripped his shoulders tightly.
"Lie down," Qin whispered, his voice dripping with a firm malice that made Duang obey immediately.
Sliding his palms down Duang’s back, Qin used the momentum to switch positions with an agile movement, pivoting his hips and pushing Duang back onto the mattress. Duang yielded willingly, falling flat on his back against the sheets as Qin climbed over him. Carefully keeping his balance, Qin opened his legs and straddled Duang’s hips, settling his weight firmly and intimately.
The sudden impact of their bodies on the bed made the wooden headboard give a dry creak against the brick wall. The sound felt deafening in the silence of the night.
Qin froze instantly, his hands flat against Duang’s chest, his eyes wide. Duang held his breath, straining his neck to listen for any movement coming from Funan’s room or his parents' room at the end of the hall. Five seconds of agonizing silence passed. Nothing.
"If that bed bangs again, the whole house wakes up," Qin hissed, his voice a tense sliver of a whisper, his eyes locked on Duang’s.
"I know, I know...", Duang whispered back with a tight, guilty smile. "Watch your movements. No rush."
To be safe, Duang slid a bit further down the mattress, moving his own body and the headboard a few centimeters away from the wall, while Qin readjusted his hips over him, sitting firmly in his lap, testing their balance so the friction would make as little noise as possible.
The need to restrain their movements and control every impulse added an almost unbearable layer of erotic tension to the moment. Qin, however, wasn't going to back down. He was already completely prepared by Duang’s touch in the bathroom, his body yielded and lubricated by water and saliva. Keeping his hands flat against Duang’s chest to stabilize his weight, Qin lifted his hips slightly. He aligned himself with Duang’s impatient rigidity and, slowly, began to lower himself.
Duang let out a heavy gasp, his eyes wide as he felt Qin engulf him millimeter by millimeter. Qin bit his lip, closing his eyes for a second as his body expanded to accommodate Duang entirely, sliding down until their hips flushed together. The perfect fit wrung a blunt groan from both of them.
Once settled, Qin began to ride him.
The movements were slow but incredibly deep. He raised and lowered his hips in a measured, contained rhythm, controlling every inch of the glide to ensure the impact wouldn't make the bed shift against the wall. The internal friction was so intense that Duang had to dig his hands firmly into Qin’s thighs, holding him to help dictate the cadence without losing control.
"Qin... fuck," Duang wheezed, his voice dying choked against his own fist, which he brought to his mouth to stifle the noise. He threw his head back against the pillow, his abdominal muscles completely locked from the herculean effort of receiving Qin’s movements without being able to thrust back with the force his instinct demanded.
"Do you like it like this?" Qin whispered, leaning all the way forward, pressing his chest against Duang’s to muffle any sound while keeping up the rhythmic motion on top of him. He let his still-damp hair brush against Duang’s face as he lowered his lips to lightly bite the line of his neck.
The speed of Qin’s movement increased slightly, finding the exact angle that made Duang shudder entirely beneath him. Every inch Qin rose and fell seemed to steal Duang’s breath away, his fingers clutching the skin of Qin’s thighs so tightly they left red marks from the sheer force of his restraint.
The room was completely dominated by the sound of short breaths, the soft friction of damp skin, and the muffled sound of their bodies connecting perfectly. Riding him like that, Qin maintained absolute control of the situation, watching from above with half-closed eyes clouded with pleasure as Duang curved and responded to his command in a restrained, desperate manner.
Qin began to shift his angle, leaning his torso slightly back and resting his hands on Duang’s knees. The movement made the penetration even deeper, hitting the exact spot that caused Duang to contract his abdomen and arch his back on the mattress, fighting with everything he had not to give a jolt that would send the bed slamming against the wall.
"Closer... Ter," Duang managed to whisper through his teeth, his eyes begging for a more intimate contact.
Yielding to the request, Qin let his torso collapse forward again, wrapping his arms around Duang’s neck. Their mouths sought each other blindly in the dark, locking in a muffled, wet, and desperate kiss. Their tongues moved in the same frantic rhythm that Qin’s hips dictated below. Saliva pooled at the corners of their lips, and the groans they both wanted to release died buried in each other's throats.
With every tighter and deeper movement from Qin, Duang gritted his teeth, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead from the dual effort of overwhelming pleasure and physical containment. The sensation of Qin moving around him, sliding with that mixture of smoothness and firmness, pushed Duang to his absolute limit. The constant friction and the suffocating heat inside the room made time feel stretched out, every second focused on the precision of that silent, forbidden rhythm.
With one last focused effort, knowing neither of them could hold out much longer without waking the entire house, Qin accelerated his pace in those final moments. He rose and fell almost without disconnecting from Duang, entirely focused on the peak point of friction.
Qin’s rhythm became almost feverish, yet millimetrically calculated. He kept his fingers firmly dug into Duang’s shoulders to stabilize his weight as he pushed up and down in a hurry, feeling the internal friction burn overwhelmingly. Each deep thrust made their hips collide in a muffled slap of skin against skin, the sound swallowed by the thick mattress they made sure not to let move.
Duang could no longer keep his eyes open. His teeth were clenched into the fabric of the sheet, using it to bite down and stifle the raw, ragged sound rising up his throat. His abdominal muscles were so taut they felt like stone, trembling from the colossal strain of staying still, taking the weight and Qin’s rhythmic motion without pushing his body back with the impact his own instinct craved.
Qin’s grip around him shifted, turning even hotter, tighter—a clear sign that his partner had also reached the edge of his control.
"Duang...", Qin panted right against his ear, his voice breaking completely, his hot breath hitting Duang’s sweaty neck.
That was the trigger. With one final, long down-stroke, where Qin lowered his entire body weight and pinned himself against him, Duang stretched his legs out on the mattress and curled his toes. A muffled, long, and hoarse sound died against the sheet at the exact millisecond he came, hot, intense spurts filling Qin completely.
The spasm of Duang’s climax triggered an immediate chain reaction. Qin’s internal walls contracted in an involuntary, violent grip, drawing Duang even deeper and shoving Qin straight into his own abyss.
Qin threw his head back, his eyes closing as the wave of the orgasm hit him with full force. A sharp, uncontrolled moan began to rise up his throat, threatening to shatter the silence of the room and echo down the house's hallway.
Perceiving the danger instantly, Duang acted on pure reflex. He ripped one hand away from the sheet and shot his arm up, clamping his firm, warm hand directly over Qin’s mouth.
The sound of Qin’s orgasm died instantly, turning into a completely muffled, ragged whimper against the palm of Duang’s hand. Qin arched his back, digging his nails hard into the skin of Duang’s shoulders as he rode out his own release. His entire body shook, hit by successive waves of rigid, delicious tremors, as he pressed his face into Duang’s hand, searching for the air he lacked.
Duang kept his hand there, firm and secure, feeling Qin’s hot, erratic breath against his skin until he was certain the strongest spasms had passed. Only then did he slowly slide his fingers down Qin’s face, removing his hand and caressing his flushed, sweaty cheek.
Slowly, their strength faded. Exhausted, Qin collapsed forward, letting his body weight go completely limp over Duang’s heaving chest. Their foreheads rested together, their skin slick with sweat and the heat radiating from them in the dimness of the room.
The silence of the house reigned absolute once more, broken only by the erratic, noisy rhythm of their breathing, which gradually began to slow down. No sound had come from the hallway. The bed remained exactly in the same place, the headboard untouched against the wall.
Duang let go of the edge of the pillow, breathing through his mouth, and raised a trembling hand to the back of Qin’s neck. He gently pulled his head closer, leaving a wet, lingering kiss on Qin’s temple before sliding his fingers through his hair, which was beginning to dry.
"We made it," Duang whispered, his voice barely there, but with a distinct trace of that cocky smile back on his lips.
Qin let out a weak, muffled laugh against his neck, lacking the strength to move from there. "Shut up, Duang. If you say one more word, I'll wake your brother up myself just so he can come in here and beat you.”