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[Episode 1: the photoshoot announcement]

It’s nothing, that first glance.

Almost nothing.

Last year’s Campus Moon and his friends are looking down from the balcony as a photoshoot field trip is announced to the new crop of Suns and Moons. Ming’s glance skims over the trio and past them, then swiftly back again. 

Pha he recognizes at once, of course, from the halls of their high school and the photos in Wayo’s lovingly curated shrine to unrequited love. And the other two...

“The guys with Pha are Kit and Beam, right?” he asks Yo. He continues to gaze up at them as Yo confirms it, thinking that Beam’s dimples befit his name and that Kit is adorably small but handsome—no, cute—no, handsome—no, he’s both and how is that possible? 

Ming drops his gaze and continues teasing Yo, but not before he sees Kit incline his head just a fraction, enough to make the soft, dark forelock of his hair fall across his perfect brow. 

Haughty little P’Kit, acknowledging Ming’s stare.


[Episode 2 - lunch break for the Suns & Moons]

The line of Suns and Moons queuing up for lunch is long, so Ming ducks into the corridor with a quick restroom break in mind. But as he rounds the corner toward the men’s room—his attention admittedly more on his phone messages than his destination—he collides with another student hard enough to send them both staggering against the wall, clutching at one another for balance.

Ming has just opened his mouth to apologize when he realizes two things: The air is filled with vicious curses and his arms are full of Kit.


“—dimwit oaf of a—”

P’Kit, his weight half supported by Ming and half by the wall.

“—clumsy fucking buffalo—”

P’Kit, angry and off balance, flushed and gorgeous. 

“—thundering asshole of a giant—” 

P’Kit seething, almost spitting in his rage. 

“—goddamn blind, lumbering mmmppphhh —”

P’Kit, silenced by Ming’s mouth as the Moon of Engineering yanks him closer and proceeds to kiss him as though both their lives depend on it.

Ming can’t begin to explain why he does it or why Kit allows it. Allows? No, Kit glories in it. After a single frozen second of disbelief, Kit comes to furious life in Ming’s arms and climbs him like a fucking tree, wrapping his legs around Ming’s waist and clenching both fists in Ming’s hair as he rage-kisses him so hard that Ming tastes blood in his mouth. His own blood? Kit’s? Ming doesn’t know and doesn’t care. Ming has just discovered that kissing Kit is his life’s work, and by god he means to do it well. 

He thought he understood kissing. After all, he’s experienced. Ming’s had first kisses and last kisses, puppy-love kisses and sex kisses, little pecks in public and passionate moaning kisses in the throes of climax. Hundreds of kisses. Maybe thousands.

But he’s never had Kit’s kisses and oh god, oh sweet god, holy fucking god almighty , Kit’s kisses put every other kiss to shame. 

Kit is still incandescent with rage. Ming can feel it in the coiled tension of Kit’s slender body, taste it in the coppery flavor of Kit’s tongue, hear it in the half-growl, half-moan he utters as Ming presses him more firmly against the wall. If anything, Kit grows even angrier as they continue to kiss. Kit bites. Kit scratches. Kit even hits him once, a small hard fist smacking Ming between the shoulder blades. But when Ming raises his head, certain that the wallop is Kit’s signal to cease and desist, Kit seizes hold of his hair again to draw Ming back where he belongs.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Kit hisses.


“Stop and I’ll hurt you.”

“KitKat,” Ming groans against his mouth. Kit growls in earnest at that but Ming doesn’t mind. Already he understands that a riled Kit is a passionate Kit.

Afterwards, Ming wonders what would’ve happened next if they hadn’t been interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Surely they wouldn’t have fucked in a public hallway in broad daylight. Surely not. 

Well. Maybe if P’Kit had begged him to. 

But the question is moot, because they do hear those footsteps and they scramble madly to separate themselves. Ming drops Kit back onto his own two feet again, Kit yanks his rucked-up shirt down, and Ming takes three hasty steps sideways to bend over a nearby water fountain, where he gulps water like a parched man at a desert oasis. When he risks a quick glance at Kit he sees that the other boy is kneeling, untying one shoe with a yank so he can be observed innocently tying it when their classmates round the corner.

It’s no coincidence that both of them have chosen positions that help hide a raging hard-on.

“There you are!” exclaims a familiar voice. It’s Pha, with Beam close behind. “Come on, Kit, we’re going to bring lunch to Yo.”

Kit keeps his head bent over his shoe. “Why the hell does it take three people to carry one lunch?” 

“Two people,” Beam corrects him. “Pha is too nervous to do it himself.”

“Oh, all right,” Kit grumbles. “Chickenshit bastard.”

Ming doesn’t dare look at them any longer for fear of drawing attention to himself, so he straightens up and strides toward the men’s room as quickly as his aching balls will allow. 

He’s back in the practice room in time to see the Wild Doctor Gang spoiling Yo rotten with a hand-delivered lunch and pink milk. He hangs back till they walk away—and if he harbors a special appreciation of that view after having cupped Kit’s perfect ass in his own two hands, well, that’s his little secret, isn’t it? God knows Yo is too preoccupied to notice.


[Episode 2 - after Sun & Moon dance practice]


It’s dark by the time they emerge from practice, but not too dark to see a tall figure leaning against a nearby pillar. Yo stops dead in his tracks, Ming halting beside him.

“I think he’s been waiting for you,” Ming says softly, giving Yo a little push in Pha’s direction. “Go get lucky.” 

He hears Yo’s yelp of dismay as he veers off but chooses to ignore it. He tells himself it’s simply to clear the way for his friend, who needs to man the hell up and make a serious play for his crush at long last.

It’s pure coincidence that Ming’s new path takes him toward a small figure standing motionless in the shadows across the courtyard.

Chapter Text

[Episode 2 - after Sun & Moon dance practice]

What most people overlook about Kit is that he’s shy. 

It’s easy to miss because he’s so often in the company of Pha and Beam. With his lifelong friends he can joke and argue with complete ease, but around new people or under stress Kit turns painfully shy. He’s perfected his expression of silent disdain for exactly that reason: to disguise the fact that he’s too tongue-tied with embarrassment to speak. 

Except when he’s angry.

Anger is power to Kit. He’s not proud of it but he can’t deny it either. Anger fills his veins with ice water and his mouth with curses, honing his wit sharp enough to cut. Flirt with Kit and he’s instantly dumbstruck; piss him off and he’ll flay you to the bone with words. At his size he may never win a fight with his fists, but he can incapacitate a man with his venom faster than a Malayan Pit Viper. 

And that, as best he can deduce after the fact, is how Ming managed to short-circuit all his defenses and light up Kit’s pleasure center like a Bang Fai rocket. When the blundering buffalo nearly trampled him underfoot, Shy Kit exited the building in the blink of an eye, leaving Furious Kit in his place to curse and be kissed. And kissed. And kissed. 

(It turns out that Furious Kit is also Horny As Hell Kit—a revelation he’d never had occasion to discover during his gentlemanly wooing of his ex-girlfriend Pin. No, apparently he’d been saving that particular epiphany for a hulking freshman with the soulful eyes of a golden retriever and the kissing skills of Casanova himself.)

To some extent that explains the hallway incident. It does not, Kit is forced to admit, explain why he’s been waiting in the shadows outside the performing arts building for nearly an hour. 

He tells himself he’s just getting some fresh air. 

He tells himself he’s staying nearby to support Pha in case Yo rejects him. 

He tells himself everything and anything but the truth: that he’s there to make Ming finish what he started.


Kit’s not a virgin. Three months into his relationship with Pin, they’d taken that leap together on a weekend her parents were out of town, Kit’s courage shored up by a bottle of wine and Pin’s forthright sweetness. “We’re going to do it badly the first time,” she’d said, “because everybody does. And then we’re going to do it a second time and learn how to enjoy it.” So they did, and it was, and after some experimentation they found both pleasure and laughter in one another’s arms—then and afterwards.

What they never quite found was love. Not the deep and lasting kind anyway, despite their genuine fondness for one another. Always fondness, never fireworks. Pin wanted fireworks. So did Kit. Their parting of ways at graduation was as amicable as it was inevitable.

It’s dark enough for fireworks now, Kit thinks as Ming splits away from Yo and turns unerringly in his direction. 

Ming strides across the courtyard with the kind of cocky confidence that Kit can only dream of possessing, and he’s smiling that thousand-watt smile, and it’s really just fucking unfair how attractive Ming is when he smiles. Kit hates him for it, he decides, and for that tall, broad-shouldered body too. But that’s okay. Hate is close enough to anger to serve his purpose. 

“About time, asshole,” he snaps at Ming as the freshman halts an arm’s length away.

The smile doesn’t waver. “Aw, you waited for me,” Ming says with obvious delight, making a happy little wai in greeting. “Sawasdee, P’KitKat.”

Kit’s lip curls. “My name,” he snarls, “is Kit. Call me anything else and you’ll be picking your teeth up from the ground.”

Impossibly, Ming’s smile broadens. “I don’t believe you’re a violent person, P’Kit.”

“Then you don’t know me very well, do you?” 

“No,” Ming admits, closing the remaining gap between them till their chests nearly touch. “But I want to.”

“Well, I don’t!” Kit slaps him right on his perfect pecs. “And if you ever lay a hand on me in public again, I’ll make you regret you were ever born.”

Ming doesn’t react at all to the slap but does hang his head a little at the rebuke. “I’m sorry, P’Kit.” 

“You should be! What the hell were you even thinking back there? Who just—just grabs a person and kisses him like that, where anyone could see?”

Ming’s smile is fading now—Kit feels more of a pang at that than he cares to admit—but the expression that replaces it isn’t chagrined in the least. It’s curious. Intrigued.

“In public?” Ming says. 


Ming leans in so close that Kit can feel the younger boy’s breath against his temple, because of course the infuriating jackass is tall enough to tuck Kit under his chin. Not that Kit would let him. 

“In public,” Ming repeats. “You said I shouldn’t lay a hand on you in public.

Kit jerks his head back to scowl fiercely up at him, trying to ignore the way their proximity makes his heartrate climb. “Yeah. So what?”

“That’s not the same as saying I shouldn’t lay a hand on you at all.”

Kit huffs out an exasperated breath. “For godsakes, are we playing word games now?”

“I’m not,” Ming says softly. “But maybe you are.”

“Sure. Right. Let me just fetch my Crossword board—so I can bludgeon you in the head with it.”

“P’Kit, you scolded me for kissing you where anyone could see.

“I repeat: So what? So. Fucking. What.”

Ming's lips are close to Kit’s ear now. He’s observing the letter of Kit’s law; their bodies aren’t touching. But their position is so intimate Kit can feel the heat from his body and take in the scent of him, sweat and soap and just a hint of sandalwood.

“So if you come to my room,” Ming whispers, “I’ll kiss you where nobody can see.” 

And with that bombshell delivered, he turns on his heel and walks away. 

Kit lets him take ten steps before he follows.

Chapter Text

They don’t speak a word until Ming’s door is closed and locked behind them. But the moment the deadbolt clicks into place, Ming turns to Kit and says, “Don’t be scared.”

His words have the desired effect. Kit’s chin comes up, his eyes blaze, and his mouth firms with resolve. “You think I’m scared of you?  Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You flatter me then,” Ming teases.

“Hell, no! Your head is big enough already, you ox.”

Ming smiles, pleased that he’s correctly guessed how to transform the silent, subdued Kit who’d trailed him up the stairs into the sassy Kit he’d kissed this afternoon. Not that a quiet Kit is any less adorable. But a bashful Kit would need wooing and coaxing, and Ming is pretty sure that’s not on the menu tonight.  

“I could flatter you instead,” he says, taking Kit’s delicate face between his own big hands. “You are very, very pretty, P’Kit.”

Pretty ,” Kit scoffs. “You think I’m a girl?” But he doesn’t push Ming’s hands away. Instead he rubs his cheeks against them like a preening cat—and then, true to cat nature, abruptly sinks his teeth into the heel of Ming’s hand. 

Ming makes a startled sound deep in his throat. “Handsome,” he says quickly. “I meant to say handsome.”

Kit rewards him by turning the bite into a series of nips at Ming’s fingers, punctuated by quick flicks of his tongue. 

“Kitty,” Ming groans. 

Kit bites him harder this time. A warning. Or it might have been if Ming weren’t enjoying it so much. With his free hand he palms the back of Kit’s neck to pull him closer, body to body. 

“Kitty,” he repeats deliberately. “Pretty Kitty. Bite me again, Kitty-chan.” 

Kit does, a quick nip at his chin that unexpectedly turns into a nuzzle at his neck as Ming wraps Kit in his arms. “You’re such a dick,” he mutters against Ming’s skin, sounding grumbly and petulant. “Why do you have to feel so good when I don’t even like you?” 

“You like me,” Ming says, slipping his hands under Kit’s shirt to caress the small of his back. “You just don’t like me in public, remember?”

“I don’t want to touch you in public.” Kit presses a kiss to the base of his throat, quick and grudging. “I don’t like you anywhere.”

“Nowhere?” Ming strokes both palms up the smooth skin of Kit’s back, smirking in satisfaction as Kit rewards him with a little sigh and an arch of his spine. “Not even here in my room?” 

“Hell, no.” 

Ming walks him backward till the backs of Kit’s knees touch the mattress. “Not in my bed?”

Especially not in your bed.” 

Ming tips him onto the bed and follows him down, careful to keep his own weight on his elbows. “How about under me?”

“No.” But Kit’s voice is unsteady as he says it.

“Over me?” Effortlessly, Ming flips them to put Kit on top. 

“Still no,” Kit manages to say, just before Ming captures his face between both hands again and kisses him.

It’s soft at first, featherlight and gentle, because despite Kit’s bravado Ming can feel the faint tremble in his body and understands that Kit isn’t as confident as he seems. Well. Neither is Ming, frankly. For all his experience he’s never been with a man before, and he’s very deliberately ignoring the question of what happens next (like who does what to whom). But kissing Kit isn’t intrinsically different than kissing a woman, and for now Ming thinks that kissing is enough. 

Then Kit’s lips part with a little gasp and Ming thinks that kissing is quite a lot, actually. 

Then Kit moans softly against his mouth and Ming thinks that kissing is everything.

Time loses all meaning as Ming savors Kit’s mouth. How can the same lips curse so foully and kiss so sweetly? His fingers slip through the silk of Kit’s hair to cradle the back of his head and hold him in place because oh god, oh god, Kit needs to stay right where he is forever, sweet and delicious and warm, melting into Ming, hands and lips and body on Ming. 

He makes a broken sound of protest when Kit pulls away, until he feels Kit’s hands tugging at his shirt and understands. He helps Kit pull it over his head and tosses it carelessly aside. Kit follows suit with his own button-up shirt and undershirt, except that he takes the time to fold them and set them on the bedside table before turning back to Ming. Kit’s eyes are a little wild and Ming suspects his own are too. He draws Kit back into his arms, breath catching as he feels Kit’s skin against his own for the first time. So much more of Kit to kiss. So much more of Kit to touch. 

Then he’s over Kit again, pressing Kit’s slim body into the mattress, kissing his mouth, his throat, his mouth again, his collarbones and chest and belly. Everywhere. Kissing everywhere. Touching everywhere. Touching Kit who’s touching him. Grinding his hips down into Kit who’s lifting his own hips to grind up into Ming.

“P’Kit,” he whispers as they rock together. “P’Kitty. Let me taste you, okay? Please let me taste you, Kitty, please—”

Kit makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a whimper. “Yes. Oh, god...”

Belts and buttons and zippers. The whisper of cloth against skin. Clothing being drawn down and away. Ming, desperately aroused. Kit revealed to him, hard and beautiful.

Ming expects it to feel strange, and of course it does—he’s going down on a man for the first time in his life, how could that not feel strange? But it’s exhilarating too. Kit is so fucking responsive. He hums in approval when Ming cups his balls and strokes the base of his shaft, moans when Ming circles the tip with his tongue, gasps when Ming closes his lips around the head and takes him deeper. His sounds are intoxicating; so is the taste of him on Ming’s tongue.

For these scant precious minutes Kit is Ming’s entire world. Kit in his hands. Kit in his mouth. Kit coming apart, clenching his fists in the bedsheets, arching up and crying out Ming’s name.

Oh, thank god, Ming thinks with profound relief as he swallows. He does know my name.  

Ming kisses his way back up Kit’s spent body to his mouth, letting Kit taste himself on Ming’s tongue before Ming collapses onto the mattress beside him and takes himself in hand. He would’ve preferred Kit’s hand, of course, but he’s not surprised when Kit doesn’t offer. Kit looks so dazed and languid that Ming doubts he can even move. 

He’s proven wrong about that as he’s nearing his own climax. Kit rolls over just enough to put his hand on Ming’s leg and his head on Ming’s shoulder, watching with desire-darkened eyes as Ming strokes himself closer to completion.

“God, you’re big there too,” Kit murmurs. “Show-off.” 

“…” Ming manages to get out between strokes.

“You wish.” 


“In your dreams.” Kit’s fingers tighten on Ming’s thigh. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he says close to Ming’s ear. It’s half taunt, half flirtation.

Ming is too far gone to deny it. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I…I want..”

Say it.

“Iwannafuckyou,” Ming gasps out, and comes so hard he sees stars.

He’s still catching his breath when Kit climbs out of bed and starts putting on his clothes.

Chapter Text

Kit isn’t panicking. Never mind that he all but catapults off Ming’s bed and starts dressing himself like it’s a speed competition; he is definitely not panicking. 

That’s his story and he’s sticking to it. 

“I have to go,” he says as he zips his trousers. “I still have to study tonight.”

“Sure,” says Ming. “Um. Sure, I understand. Me too.” He hesitates before gesturing vaguely at something beyond Kit. “Could you pass me those...?”

Kit follows his gaze. “Oh! Yeah, of course.” He hands Ming the box of tissues from the bedside table, careful to keep their fingers from touching. He’s not as successful in avoiding Ming’s eyes, and he feels a pang of guilt at the naked hurt in them. God, he feels like he just kicked a puppy.

In his haste, Kit buttons his shirt crooked and has to start over. By the time he’s fixed it, Ming has wiped himself off and pulled on a pair of boxer shorts. They face each other awkwardly, Kit shifting nervously from foot to foot, Ming looking downcast with his arms crossed over his bare chest.

“Well, I should—” Kit begins.

“P’Kit,” Ming interrupts, “can I have your LINE number before you go?”

Kit bites his lip. “Ming...I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh.” Ming’s voice is very small. “All right, then. If you think that’s best.”

“I do.” Like an idiot, Kit blunders on. “Look, we both know this was a mistake, right? We just got caught up in it and—and we’ve gotten it out of our systems now. We can move on.”

“Right,” Ming says. “If that’s what you want.”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

“No, of course you won’t.” Ming squares his shoulders and nods rapidly a few times, as though trying to convince himself. “I won’t either. I promise.”

“That’s good. Thank you. Well, then…” Kit moves as if to hug him, then thinks better of it and extends a hand instead. “Goodnight.”

“Are you serious?” Ming stares at his outstretched hand, the sad-puppy look in his eyes replaced by simmering anger. “Your cock was literally in my mouth two minutes ago, P’Kit. You’re the first man I’ve ever touched that way. And now you want to just shake my hand?” 

Kit feels his cheeks grow hot with shame. Before he can reply—and fuck, what could he even say?—Ming steps forward and wraps Kit in his arms, hugs him briefly but hard, and presses a kiss to his cheek. When he steps back, his face is devoid of all expression.

“Goodnight, P’Kit.”

Kit wants to cling to him, or apologize to him, or haul him back into bed and make love to him. But in the end he does none of those things. 

“Goodnight, Ming,” he says quietly.

And he leaves.


[Episode 2 - segment 2_4/5  on YouTube - the day before the photoshoot field trip]

Kit has every intention of avoiding Ming forever or until he’s no longer ashamed of himself, whichever comes first. So, probably forever. 

But the gods have a cruel sense of humor, which means he finds himself back in the performing arts building with Pha and Beam the very next day. And then he somehow finds himself promising Yo that they’ll skip classes to come along on the Sun and Moon field trip. Damn that Pha and his neverending schoolboy crush! As the self-appointed boss of their gang of three, Pha never takes No for an answer, whether it means following his footsteps into the School of Medicine or chaperoning Yo to keep Forth at bay. 

He hopes to make his escape when Pha spirits Yo away to pick up the group’s catered lunches. But again the gods are laughing at him, because the moment he opens his mouth to make his excuses to Beam, up walks Ming himself. 

Kit braces himself for a scene but instead finds that he’s become invisible. Ming looks at and speaks only to Beam; Kit he studiously ignores.

“P’, where is Yo going?” 

“The boss asked him to help bring food here,” Beam says. 

“Oh, I see.” Ming’s voice is soft, subdued. He grabs a water bottle from the snack table and takes his leave, dipping his head and shoulders in a quick farewell bow to Beam. 

“Do you think Ming is handsome?” Beam asks as they watch the freshman walk away. Kit doesn’t like the speculative tone in his voice, not one bit.

Hell yes, and he looks even better naked, Kit thinks. But aloud he says only, “I think he is...just fine.”

Beam smirks. “Maybe Wayo has been taken by him before.” 

“What the hell?” Kit shoots him a death glare. Beam and his filthy one-track mind! Why is he so obsessed with who’s nailing Yo? “No way,” Kit says flatly. “It couldn’t be true.”

“What makes you so sure, Kitty?”

Because I’m the first man he’s ever been with. First and only. Me. Suddenly Kit feels overwhelmed and sad. Why does it hurt to know this? Why does it feel as though he was entrusted with something precious and carelessly dropped it in the dirt? It was just sex, right? Just an impulsive act of experimentation with someone he barely knows. It didn’t mean anything.

Beam is still looking at him, expecting an answer. Kit tries to collect himself but his attention is so frayed that he ends up just blurting out some nonsense. 

“Come on, trust me,” he says. And then, like a complete idiot, he adds, “I’ll prove it to you.”

Chapter Text

pin, can I ask you something
it’s kind of personal

Of course, anytime. You know that.
You’re still one of my best friends.
What’s up?

have you been with anybody since me?

Wow, you weren’t kidding about personal.
Dating, you mean? Or sex?


i’m not jealous, i promise
i just don’t know who else to talk to

Well. Yes, I have.
A guy I met here at university.

was it good?

What a thing to ask.

sorry, sorry...not trying to be creepy
just so confused right now

If you really want to know?
It was pretty great.
I think there’s something to this
whole concept of chemistry.

yeah, same
i was with somebody last night
& felt things I’ve never felt

but then I fucked up, pin :( 
i got scared & just...left 
& wasn’t kind to this person

Oh, Kit.
Are you OK?

i don’t know...mostly? but
i thought it was just sex
b/c we hardly know each other 
& now i feel all tangled up.

Not sure it’s ever "just sex".
Well, maybe for some people.
I can’t separate it like that.
Can you talk to this girl?
Tell her you’re sorry?

don’t tell anybody ok?


it’s not a girl

Chapter Text

{Episode 2 - segment 2_5/5  on YouTube - leaving for the photoshoot field trip]

Kit hopes Beam will forget the subject of Ming by morning, when they park near the chartered bus where the Suns and Moons are gathering. But no, if anything Beam is more fixated than before. 

“Kit, did you talk with that cute boy?” Beam asks as soon as they see Ming with the other freshmen. He’s easy to spot, half a head taller than the others and so handsome in the sun, smiling radiantly as he helps everyone load their luggage into the cargo compartment of the bus.

Of course Ming is helpful to others. And of course he’s a fucking morning person. Because apparently the universe wants to inform Kit that Ming is a better person than him in every way. As if Kit didn’t already feel like shit. 

“Why do I have to talk to him?” he grumbles to Beam. In the light of day he deeply regrets blurting out that he’d prove Ming isn’t gay for Yo. What a stupid fucking thing to say! Anybody would think he was jealous of the very idea, which is ridiculous. He knows Ming and Yo haven’t been together. 

You’re the first man I’ve ever touched that way, Ming had said.

“You told me you will test him out,” Beam persists.

Kit gives him a surly look. “I didn’t mean I’d pimp out my own ass to test him, damn you! I won’t be bait.”

Ming strolls up while they’re still bickering, giving Kit’s heart a jolt. Did the junior overhear them? No, he couldn’t have. Ming is smiling sweetly at Beam as though he hasn’t got a care in the world, darting only the quickest of glances at Kit as he inquires about Yo’s whereabouts. Soon he’s joking with Beam about Yo getting pregnant with Pha’s triplets, the two of them snickering together as though they’re the old friends and Kit the stranger, the outsider.

Kit just stands there glowering. That stupid handsome boy should get on the stupid bus, and stupid Beam should stop fluttering over him as though he’s flirting, damn it. They’re exchanging names and smiles now, Beam’s adorable fucking dimples on full display. Asshole.

“Don’t you wanna ask his name?” Beam asks then, pointing to Kit.

Kit sees it in Ming’s eyes then, just for an instant: a flicker of uncertainty and hurt hiding behind the affable exterior. He masks it so quickly that Kit is certain Beam didn’t spot it. Nobody would, if they didn’t know Ming had something to hide.

“Oh, I remember him,” Ming says with a little smirk. “Kit. When we were in high school we used to call him KitKat. He was small back then,” he adds, his gaze lingering on Kit. “Such a lovely boy. Like now.”

I could flatter you instead. You are very, very pretty, P’Kit.

“Damn that KitKat shit,” Kit snaps. Striking out is almost reflex with him. He doesn’t know what else to do or say, trapped here in this ridiculous charade with his best friend and his secret fling.

Clueless Beam is chuckling. “Do you know what our gang called him? We called him Kitty.” He reaches out to scratch Kit under the chin just to drive the point home, the bastard.

Bite me again, Kitty-chan.

Kit shoves Beam’s hand away irritably. “My name is Kit ,” he says furiously. “If you call me other names, you will be kicked in your face.”

“Are you going to do that?” Ming’s eyes travel down Kit’s body and back up again, slowly, and Kit feels his face flush from the heat of that gaze. How is Beam not sensing what’s between them? That look was as intimate as a touch.

“Hell, yes!” Kit retorts.

Ming is smiling, still smiling. “Is it even possible for a teeny guy like you to kick in my face?”

“You son of a bitch!” Kit starts forward, not sure if he means to kick Ming or—or something else entirely. But thankfully Beam holds him back. 

“Come on, let’s love each other,” Beam chides the two of them, and Kit has to bite his tongue to keep from laughing hysterically.

P’Kitty. Let me taste you, okay? Please let me taste you, Kitty, please—

Thankfully a diversion arrives in the form of Pha and Yo, still making cow eyes at one another, and then the juniors are boarding the bus to get underway. Only then does Kit relax. Beam clearly hadn’t suspected a thing.

Another bullet dodged, at least for now. 


  [Episode 3 - photoshoot field trip]

When Ming was a little boy, his annoying cousin Fan used to nag him into playing a game she called Spinners and Losers. It involved seizing hold of one another’s wrists and whirling in crazy circles until they were dizzy to the point of nausea, then abruptly letting go. The first one to fall down was the loser. Ming hated it with a passion, but whenever he complained his parents scolded him about minding his manners and playing nice with guests, especially girls.

That’s how Ming feels now: sick, dizzy, and forced to play a game he doesn’t even enjoy. 

It’s ironic, then, that it’s Yo who falls groaning onto their hotel room bed, still nauseous from the bus ride. At least that means he’s too miserable to blather on about Pha. Ming doesn’t think he could bear listening to that right now. 

Ming doesn’t begrudge Yo his happiness over finally getting attention from Pha. He truly doesn’t. He and Yo are as close as brothers—and while Ming has often teased Yo about his crush, he’s also supported and comforted him through countless emotional highs and lows. Yo has cried rivers on Ming’s shoulders and bored him silly with hours of besotted babble, all without a single complaint from Ming. Nobody will be happier than Ming if Yo and Pha declare they’re officially boyfriends.

But it’s really fucking painful to see Yo and Pha radiating joy at one another when Ming just got treated like a whore by Pha’s friend. 

That offer of a handshake as he stood there with the taste of Kit’s spend still in his mouth. God. Why didn’t Kit just drop some cash on the bedside table? It would’ve been no more humiliating.

Ming offers to fetch Yo some medicine, partly out of sympathy but mostly to get outside and clear his head. He takes the long way to and from the resort’s little convenience shop, walking barefoot along the beach where wet sand meets dry. On the return trip his footprints have already been erased by the waves, which feels like a metaphor for some important life lesson that Ming doesn’t quite grasp.

Ming’s not a deep thinker as a rule. Not a complicated guy. He tries to do well at his studies and look out for his friends, and spends his spare time enjoying life’s simple pleasures: food, friendship and romance. Yo would smirk at that and say that for Ming it’s really food, friendship and fucking —but in truth Ming enjoys the wooing stage almost as much. Flirtation is so enticing; the slow build of physical attraction is delicious and intoxicating.

Maybe that’s where he went wrong with Kit, Ming muses as he pads barefoot past the row of small red-and-white striped tents that serve as changing rooms for swimmers. They skipped too many preliminaries. Maybe if they’d flirted first, got acquainted, went on a date or two?

As he comes abreast of the second-to-last changing tent, Ming notes absently that its entrance flaps are closed but not tied but thinks nothing of it—

—until a hand suddenly darts out from between the flaps to grab his arm and drag him inside.

Chapter Text

  [Episode 3 - segment 3_1/5  on YouTube - photoshoot field trip]

“Shit, I think there’s sand in my ear.”

“There’s definitely sand in my buttcrack.”

“Maybe you should try keeping your goddamn pants on for a change.” 

“You’re the one who took them off me!” 

“Only because I owed you an apology.” 

“Do you always apologize on your knees? You should definitely insult me some more, then.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

“No lube, maybe next time.”

“Shut up! Why are you so disgusting? And there’s not going to be a next time.” 

“Isn’t that what you thought last time?” 

“I mean it, you horny buffalo! This can’t keep happening.” 

“It’s not happening, right? Not as far as anybody else knows.” 

“Good. Keep it that way.” 

“You’re really ashamed of this, aren’t you? I’m not. I’d tell the world if you’d let me.” 

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare, you—unghh. Oh. Oh, god.” 


“Yes, oh yes, ohgodyes.”


Ming. Oh god, Ming...”



So. Um.



Turns out I’m gay.

Chapter Text

[Episode 3 - segment 3_1/5  on YouTube - after the photoshoot]

In preparation for the drinking party in Forth’s room, Ming changes his photoshoot clothes for a simple t-shirt and track pants—casual clothes that don’t imply he’s dressing to impress. He's double-checking his appearance in the mirror, smiling at the thought of Kit, when he catches sight of Yo’s suspicious stare. 

“Ming, do you have feelings for Pha’s friend?”

Ming manages to suppress a guilty startle at the question but it’s a near thing. He’s never kept anything from Yo before; the very idea feels alien and wrong. But everything is changing now, isn’t it? Yo is teetering on the brink of a relationship with Pha, who could probably extract his every secret with the promise of a single kiss. And Ming’s now crossed third base with someone who wants to keep their not-a-relationship in the closet (or the changing tent).

His overt promise to Kit trumps an unspoken assumption of honesty with Yo, Ming decides reluctantly. So he tries to deflect by playing dumb. “Which one?”

Yo gives a huffy little sigh. “Ming.”

Ming attempts a nonchalant shrug. “Kit? No, not yet,” he lies. “Maybe if you give me the green light.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

“We’re friends. We have to look out for each other.”

“That’s your business, not mine,” Yo sniffs.

Wow, Ming thinks. Thanks a lot, bro. You’ve had me tuned to the Yo Loves Pha channel for years—years!—and you can’t be bothered to make this your business? Especially when I'm suddenly interested in a guy and you’ve never once seen me pursue a man before? 

He feels a sudden pang of sadness. Like it or not, there’s a gulf opening between him and Yo now. This may be his first secret from his best friend but it probably won’t be his last. Yo will share intimacies with Pha that he’ll want to keep private from Ming. Ming is already hiding his liaisons with Kit. Is this where it begins, the inevitable growing apart of childhood friends? 

What would he even say to Yo if he felt free to speak? “I’m falling too fast and I’m scared, Yo. I don’t know what it all means. Am I bi now? Is he? I’m not even sure he likes me. Is he using me for my body? Am I using him? Are we bad people if the answer both times is Yes?” 

In the end Ming says none of that, just reminds Yo to lock the door and teases him about not going out fornicating. He gets a pillow thrown at him for his trouble. Yo can be such a pissy little bitch sometimes.

God, does he like Kit because he reminds him of Yo? Oh, hell no. That’d practically be incest. And anyway the resemblance is superficial. They’re both small and cute, but Yo comes across as soft and vulnerable while Kit is anything but. He’s like an angry little porcupine, prickly from head to toe. Hug him at your peril.

Ming remembers seeing a cute porcupine plushie at Bangkok’s Dusit Zoo. If Kit ever agrees to actually date him, maybe he’ll buy him one as a gift. 

He smiles at the thought. There’s another difference between his best friend and his not-a-boyfriend: Yo would coo and tuck the plushie into his bed. Kit would curse and fling it at Ming’s head. 

Note to self, Ming thinks. Never buy Kit a gift that could be used as a blunt instrument.


[Episode 3 - segment 3_2/5  on YouTube - fetching ice]

“Hell no, I’m not going to date you,” Kit says peevishly. “Especially not at the zoo. What are we, five?”

They’re on their way to buy ice for the impromptu party, with Kit still irked that Ming wheedled him into helping. Ming’s not certain if the root cause is that he interrupted Kit’s studying—the Wild Doctor Gang takes their homework seriously—or if he’s upset that Ming betrayed an interest in him in front of Beam. 

Whatever. Ming figures either Kit will give in and agree to date him (the best case scenario) or else Kit’s refusal will serve as good camouflage. It’s misdirection, right? If their friends see him constantly shot down by Kit, they certainly won’t suspect they’re secretly fucking. 

Not that they’ve gone that far. Not yet. But Ming suspects it won’t be long. They’re on the fast track here, the physical attraction between them so powerful it’s taken on a life of its own. Exhibit A: Kit’s apology-turned-blowjob in the tent today. Kit had barely stammered out his I-was-an-ass-sorry speech before they were all over each other, unpremeditated and out of control. 

Kit, his mouth kiss-swollen, sliding to his knees with his hands already at the zipper of Ming’s jeans...that sight is now seared into Ming’s mind for all eternity. 

Objectively, it hadn’t been a superb experience. Kit was a novice with a tiny mouth, a sensitive gag reflex, and a bad case of nerves; hardly the ingredients for sexual ecstasy. But simply having Kit kneeling at his feet had taken Ming halfway to paradise, and the wet heat of Kit’s mouth had carried him the rest of the way in record time. Unskilled or not, Kit undid him just by being Kit. 

Remembering that moment while alone in the dark with Kit is very bad for Ming’s impulse control. Abruptly he takes Kit by the elbows and pulls him into the deeper shadows under a palm tree. Kit barely has time to gasp “What the—?” before his back is up against the tree trunk and Ming is leaning in to claim his mouth, that irresistible little mouth that loves to curse him and call him names and open eagerly for his kiss.

Kit groans and answers the kiss with equal passion, although in typical Kit fashion he’s pounding Ming on the shoulder with his fist as he does so. “Idiot,” he mutters when Ming raises his head. “We’re supposed to be fetching ice for drinks, not to cool down your pants.”

“It’s your fault my pants need cooling down.”

“Gross!” Kit slaps his ass, which proves to be a miscalculation. His eyes widen at the immediate catch in Ming’s breath. “Oh my god, you liked that, didn’t you? Pervert.”

“You spank me and somehow I’m the pervert?”  

“Yes! You’re not supposed to enjoy it.” Kit slaps the other ass cheek even harder. “Calm yourself and let’s go. Beam’s going to wonder why it takes us half an hour to buy two bags of ice.” 

“Beam needs a better hobby than wondering what we do in the dark.”

“And I need a better hobby than sucking face with you,” Kit retorts, “but life is full of disappointments. Come on, you oaf. I really need a drink.” 

Ming grins and follows him back to the walking path.

Chapter Text

[Episode 3 - segment 3_2/5  on YouTube - fetching ice]

“Don’t even think it,” Kit threatens as he and Ming carry their purchases past the all-too-familiar row of changing tents.

“I...wasn’t?” Ming says unconvincingly.

“Liar. You’ve got ‘How about a rematch?’ written all over that stupidly handsome face of yours. I don’t need any more sand in sensitive places.” 

The bane of his existence gives him a sweet, fond, lingering smile that ignites a few more of Kit’s overstimulated nerve endings. “OK, I am a little tempted to abduct you,” Ming admits, a provocative lilt in his voice. “You make me hungry for more than just snacks, P’Kitty.”

“Oh my god, do you never stop?” Kit smacks Ming’s arm with his free hand. “Shut up before I drown you in the sea, you insatiable dog.”

Ming is undaunted. “P’Kit,” he says as they walk on, “let’s pretend you don’t know me and you saw me walking alone. Would you abduct me?”

“Ha! Abduct, my ass. Look at your size and mine.” Kit pointedly looks away, irked that Ming’s question has just planted a decidedly impure image in his mind: a certain freshman shirtless, bound and gagged, hostage to his captor’s whims...

Well. Maybe not gagged.

As they continue to squabble—Kit irritably, Ming amiably—Kit finds himself being abruptly dragged across the sand so Ming can snap a photo of the moon. Or so he says. But it turns out to be nothing but a ruse, a dumbass trick to make Kit spew romantic nonsense and then steal his phone number. The sweet words turn to ashes in Kit’s mouth as that deceitful brat Ming smirks at him in the moonlight. 

And suddenly Kit’s had it. He’s done. Anger washes over him with the force of a tidal wave, bearing away what remains of his tiny store of patience. 

Fuck this. Fuck all of this. He didn’t ask to be kissed (not the first time anyway), he didn’t ask to be gay, he shouldn’t even be here with this infuriating boy who’s just conned him like a pro. Kit is under stress. He’s been anxious for days. He’s been lying to his best friend, he's had zero time to process all these new sensations and urges and life-altering revelations—and to make matters worse, he’s horny as hell again because Ming looks like Adonis, smiles like a sunrise, and smells like freshly-washed boy. 

Too much. It’s all too fucking much, and Mingkwan Daichapanya can go straight to hell. 

Enough!" Kit snaps at Ming. “Do you think we are that close? Give it to me,” he adds furiously, snatching his phone back.

“P’Kit.” Ming looks crestfallen in the face of Kit’s fury. “P’Kit, I’m sorry—”

“You stay right there!” Kit shouts at him, voice shaking. “And don’t you dare come after me again!” 

He storms off across the sand, telling himself he’s glad to leave that boy behind.


Four hours later that boy is covering Kit’s naked body with his own, crying out “Kitty, oh fuck, oh god, oh Kit” as Kit shudders and goes to pieces beneath him.


[Episode 3 - interlude between 3_2/5 and 3_3/5 on YouTube]

Predictably, Kit puts up a fuss when Ming insists on walking him to his door after the drinking party breaks up. But on that issue Ming stands firm. Pha never showed up, Beam is down for the count—passed out cold on Forth’s sofa with his head pillowed on a bemused Forth’s lap—and no way is Ming letting Kit walk alone at this hour.

“It’s late and you’re a tiny guy with a bellyful of booze,” Ming says as they make their hushed farewells to Forth and head out the door. “And I’m going the same way anyhow. Don’t argue with me or I’ll just pick you up and carry you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Kit grumbles. “I’d punch you in the kidneys, you—oh shut up, why are you laughing?” 

Ming gazes at him fondly, thinking again of porcupines and hedgehogs. Cute ones with wrinkly pink noses and indignant expressions. “I’m not laughing, I’m just smiling. I like you, P’Kit.”

“Why?” Kit’s sidelong glance at Ming is a mix of suspicion and curiosity. “Except when we’re kissing, all I ever do is insult you. I’ve hurt your feelings at least three times today. You showed up at Forth’s looking like a sad, whipped puppy because of me. Why should you like me?”

Ming shrugs. “I just do. It’s because you’re fierce, I think. You’re little, but you don’t let that stop you for a minute. You never use it to play cute for your own advantage and you don’t expect anybody else to protect you.”

“Why should I? I can take care of myself.”

“I know. That’s another reason I like you.” They’ve reached Kit’s door, where Ming hesitates for a moment before adding, “It’s sexy. You’re sexy. I like that too.”

Kit sighs heavily as he grabs a handful of Ming’s t-shirt. “Goddammit, now I’m going to have to kiss you.” He looks surprised as Ming resists. “What? What’s the matter now?”

Ming places a big hand over the fist Kit has clenched in the soft cotton of his shirt front. “You’ve been drinking, P’Kit.”

A scowl fights with a smile on Kit’s face, and for once the smile wins. Small and begrudging, but a smile. “You’re sweet as a puppy too, aren’t you? I’m not drunk, Ming. I paced myself, I made sure to eat, and I drank nothing but water the last hour. You said it yourself,” he adds. “I can take care of myself.”

Ming’s answering kiss is soft, his lips barely parted. “What if I want to take care of you in bed, though?” he whispers into Kit’s ear. “That’s no fun by yourself.”

The scowl wins this time but there’s no real anger behind it. Which isn’t to say there’s no heat. “Then you’d have to do it behind closed doors,” Kit mutters, beginning to blush, “and pretend it never happened.”

Ming's hand insinuates itself into Kit’s pocket for his keycard. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

“Oh god, Kitty...”

Ming is in heaven. 

“Beautiful Kitty...”

And heaven is Kit.

“KitKat, Kitty-chan, Kit …”

Ming is in Kit.  

He honestly hadn’t expected it, hadn’t dreamed of asking for it yet. When they fell onto the bed together he was deliriously happy just to get his hands and mouth on Kit again. But this thing between them, this chemistry, this heat—it seems to feed on itself, escalating each time they touch. There’s no enough with them, only more

Besides, Beam left a tube of lube in the bathroom. So really this is all Beam’s fault. 

“So good, so good, you’re so good, oh my god, how is it so fucking good?

Somebody keeps moaning and babbling, though, and Ming wishes the somebody would stop because it’s really fucking distracting when he’s trying to savor every exquisite sensation of this moment with his Kit—

—and then he realizes, oh. Oh. He’s the somebody. It’s him. All those words and noises are coming from him

Which, ironically, startles him into silence.

Kit pushes up against him with a low, animal sound of protest. “Why—are—you—stopping? ” he gasps out between clenched teeth.

Already curled over Kit, Ming stretches a bit further to kiss the nape of his neck, which is perfect, and his shoulder blades—also perfect. He runs caressing hands down the warm planes of Kit’s back before taking firm hold of his hips once more. Kit gives a little mewling cry as Ming begins to move again.

“I was being so loud,” Ming murmurs. “I didn’t even realize. Did I say anything stupid?”

“Everything—unhhh—everything you say is stupid.” Kit turns his head, rubbing his cheek fretfully against the pillow. “But don’t stop.”

Ming rocks his hips forward, crying out in unison with Kit as he sinks deeper into the tight heat of the other boy’s body. “ Mine,” he groans. 

“Fuck no,” Kit gasps. “Not—yours.” 

Ming bends low over him again, kisses the corner of his mouth and the exquisite line of his jaw. “In bed,” he soothes, gentling Kit with his hands and voice even as he begins to thrust in earnest. “Only in bed, P’Kitty.” 

No ,” Kit repeats, and then, breathlessly: “Harder.”

“I don’t want to hurt you—”

Fuck me harder or get out of my ass, Mingkwan.”

“Oh my god.” Ming is panting and laughing at the same time. “So bossy.” The laughter becomes a moan as he obeys the little tyrant beneath him, yanking Kit’s hips up to a better angle to drive into him harder and deeper. He takes advantage of the altered position to wrap his hand around Kit’s cock too, stroking him in the same tempo.

“Yes. There.” Kit’s every breath is a hiss of pleasure now, his body shuddering ecstatically with each impact. “Ming. Take me, oh god, fuck me…”

“Kitty, oh fuck, oh god, oh Kit —”

The pleasure is impossibly intense. It takes every trick Ming knows to keep himself teetering on the edge until he feels Kit go rigid under him, his moans taking on a new keening pitch. Ming nearly weeps when he feels the telltale throbbing spasm, Kit’s release spilling warm and wet over his hand—his permission to let go at last and give his body what it desperately needs. 

“Ming,” Kit gasps. “Ming.

Ming pounds into Kit so hard the bed frame bangs against the wall. He doesn’t hear it. He can only hear Kit—his name on Kit’s lips as he comes, laughing and sobbing, into the boy he loves.

Falling has turned to fallen. Ming is lost. Kit may not be his, but he is Kit's.

Gently, ever so gently, he closes his teeth on Kit’s shoulder to keep the words unspoken.

Chapter Text

pin there’s a boy sleeping on my arm

I’m going to need a photo.
Well, actually I just want one.

[image loading]

When you go gay, you go first class.
That is a ridiculously handsome boy.
Without a shirt. Is he also w/o pants?

he’s huge

!! Too much information, honey.

ew no I didn’t mean that but ok yes

but I mean he’s just really heavy
on my arm & sleeps like the dead

So I’m going to guess you apologized
successfully after we chatted last?

yes i apologized very thoroughly to his
face & also parts of him that weren’t
wearing pants & hi I’m very very gay

hard to text w/giant buffalo on my arm pin

You’re freaking out, aren’t you?

ohhh yeahhhh

Panic attack level?

no surprisingly not i think the sex
endorphins help a lot w/that

but i wish i weren’t gay pin i really
don’t see my family taking that well &
i’m not actually brave just angry a lot

Oh honey, I know. But you don’t need
to do this all at once if you’re not ready. 

You only just figured this out about yourself.
You don’t have to have all the answers yet
or come out to anyone you’re not ready
to tell. Give yourself time.

i love you pin
friend-love you i mean
i wish it could’ve been the real thing for us
you’re the best person i know

I friend-love you too, Kit. Always will. 
So was it fireworks? With your boy?

oh god all the fireworks
chinese new year fireworks
explosion at fireworks factory

he’s still effing heavy on my arm tho

Chapter Text

“Roll over, Ming, I can’t feel my arm anymore.”

“Mmrph? Hunh?” 

“Roll. Over.”

“P’Kit? Oh...sorry. I fell asleep.”

“I know. On me.”

“You should have kicked me.”

“Well. For once you didn’t actually deserve it. Wait, what are you doing?”

“Just rearranging to be more comfortable with my little spoon.”

“Hey! Why can’t I be the big spoon? Sizeist bastard.”

“My Kitty can be whichever spoon he wants. Here, I’ll turn over. Snuggle closer and put your arm over my waist. Yes, like that. Is that better?”

“I...damn, you’re so warm, and you…god, Ming. Your body...”

“You like my body, P’Kit?”

“As if you need more compliments, Engineering Moon.”

“So you do like it. I’m glad.”

“I can’t exactly deny it, can I? Not when you can feel it.”

“Feel you growing hard against my body that way? No, no, please stay there, Kitty. Please. Don’t be embarrassed. I like it. I like it so much.”

“Fuck. It’s just physiology, you know. The Pope himself would get hard if he were spooning naked with a body like yours.”

“Uhnn. You feel so good, P’Kit. Do you want to make love again?”

“What? No! Are you trying to kill me? You nearly destroyed my ass already tonight.”

“But mine is just fine.”

“Huh? Yours? Ming, you don’t mean—”

“—that I’d bottom for you? Of course I would. If you can be the big spoon, you can be the top sometimes too.”

“I...damn, Ming. Really?”

“Do you think I have to top just because I’m bigger? Who’s the sizeist now? I’m bigger but you’re much bossier. Anyway we can do it twice as much if we take turns.”

“Oh, so that’s your game! You’re such a horny dog, Mingkwan.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to?”

“ I didn’t say that.”

Chapter Text

Back on campus, Ming feels like he’s leading a double life. 

Public Ming spends the week studying, preparing for the Campus Moon competition, eating lunch with his friends, and openly flirting with a cute boy who spurns him every time (much to the amusement of those same friends).

Secret Ming is meeting the cute boy in private to tear off his clothes and fuck like bunnies.

Ming isn’t much for subterfuge. If he had to keep track of elaborate lies to keep Kit in his bed, their affair probably would’ve ended immediately after the beach trip. But as far as Ming is concerned, he’s not lying at all. He’s just courting Kit two different ways, one of which is notably more successful than the other.



“P’Kit,” Ming says at lunch, where he’s wedged in between a surly Kit and a lovestruck Yo who’s making eyes at Pha across the table, “your meatball soup has hardly any meatballs in it.”

“It’s your fault,” Kit mutters darkly. “The auntie serving up the portions took one look at your stupid handsome face and gave you twice as many. You winked at her, didn’t you?”

“Let me give you some of mine,” Ming urges at once, scooping up one of the largest to offer Kit.

Kit elbows him in the ribs so sharply that Ming drops the meatball, which plops back into his own bowl with a messy splash. 

“Keep your utensils to yourself, Mingkwan, and your balls too.” 


“Give it to me,” Kit moans in bed that night, pressing himself shamelessly against Ming. “I need you inside me now, Ming-chan, now —”



“P’Kit, is that for me?” Ming asks when the doctor gang turns up at Sun and Moon dance practice again, bearing bottles of juice and packets of snacks. 

“In your dreams,” Kit says, stalking right past him. “They’re for Wayo and Suthee.”


“You taste like mango,” Ming says when they’re alone in his room. He’s just kissed Kit breathless, which is Ming for “Hello, P’Kit.” It’s also Ming for “you’re gorgeous” and “I like you” and “P’Kit, I can’t help but notice that you’re wearing entirely too many clothes.” Ming’s kisses are a versatile language.

“I brought sliced fruit and veggie sticks,” Kit says, gesturing to his messenger bag that lies abandoned near Ming’s door. “They feed you too much junk food at those practices.”

Kit hates mess, Ming has figured that much out already, so they eat the food at his desk and wash their hands before Ming strips himself bare and tosses Kit the bottle of lube.



“Pha is taking Wayo out to a movie tonight,” Beam says. “Who wants to sit behind them and throw popcorn at their heads if they start kissing?”

“I’m in,” says Forth. “I’ll get some gumballs to throw at Dr. Pha.”

“Yo would kill me,” says Ming. “I’d have to blame P’Kitty.”

Kit smacks him on the head. “How many times do I have to remind you that my name is Kit ?”


“Kitty, Kitty, Kitty,” Ming chants in time with his thrusts into the welcoming heat of Kit’s body. “Come for me, Kitty-chan—sweet Kitty—”



[Episode 4 - at the gym and after - 4_1/5 on YouTube]  

“Wanna go have dinner with me?” Ming asks at the gym, after Kit has refused both a water bottle and Ming’s overtures of friendly conversation.   

“No, I’m not hungry.” Kit’s stomach betrays him by growling just then, clearly audible to Ming. Their eyes remain locked on one another for a moment, Kit’s in stubborn refusal, Ming’s gently pleading. 

Ming gives in gracefully but there’s still a sting of pain at the rejection. Granted, he’s pleased that his private wooing of Kit is proving so successful—he’s never gotten laid so often or so well, and given Ming’s dating history that’s really saying something. But their closeness in the bedroom only serves to highlight the distance between them in public. Will Kit ever agree to let their relationship see the light of day?

As luck would have it, Kit’s car won’t start so he’s forced to accept a ride and Ming’s dinner invitation as well. Kit manages to be even more of a sarcastic sourpuss than usual but he does pay for their food. And Ming manages to eke out two small concessions before they finish the meal: Kit admits that yes, he will cheer for Ming at the competition (less than he’ll cheer for Wayo, more than Suthee), and he’ll consider a lunch date if Ming wins.

Kit doesn’t call it a date, but that only doubles Ming’s determination to turn it into one. 


Back in the car after dinner, in the dark parking lot, Ming reaches over Kit and pulls a lever to recline his seat nearly flat. Kit doesn’t dissemble, doesn’t try to pretend he’s innocent of Ming’s intentions; instead he lets his head fall back and his arms and knees open. Take it, that body language says, and Ming doesn’t need asking twice.

Ming’s hands toy with Kit’s shirt buttons but Kit shakes his head impatiently. “Just the zipper,” he growls, grabbing Ming by the collar to pull him as close as the limited space allows. “And Mingkwan?”

“Yes, P’Kit?” murmurs Ming, already busy undoing Kit’s trousers.

“If you slip your foot into my lap in a restaurant again, I’ll drag you out of there by your hair.”

Ming just grins. “If that’s how you want to play, Kitty, I don’t mind.”

“Oh, for—” Kit’s words are interrupted by a helpless groan of pleasure. “Oh god. Yes. Yes . That’s what I want. That filthy mouth of yours, bpakwaan, that mouth…


“Ming, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Yo asks backstage at the dress rehearsal for their competition.

“What do you mean?” Ming gives him his best butter-won’t-melt-in-my-mouth look, the one he perfected meeting the parents of a dozen different girls as a high school playboy. “Nothing is going on.”

Unfortunately, Yo knows him all too well and answers with his I-may-be-cute-but-I’ll-shank-you glare. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes and a bite mark on your neck, loverboy. Who’s the lucky girl this time?”

“Nobody,” Ming says. It’s true enough; there is no girl. 

“C’mon, Ming-Ming,” Yo wheedles in his sweetest little-boy voice, the one guaranteed to render P’Pha instantly stupid with adoration. “Your neck didn’t bite itself. Did Moowarn come over for a conjugal visit? Don’t lie to me or I’ll tell P’Kit you’re two-timing him.”

Ming feels a light sweat break out on his face. He’s really not equipped to lie convincingly to Yo; they’ve been friends so long that they’re practically telepathic. “Please don’t do that,” he begs. “I’ve almost gotten him to agree to a date, Yo. Don’t mess this up for me. You’ll spook him and I’ll have to start all over again.”

“Ming!” Yo’s expression shifts from teasing to concerned. “I didn’t think you really cared for P’Kit. I thought you were just flirting with him because it’s so fun to make him hiss and spit.”

“It is fun. It’s tremendous fun. But I also mean it.” Ming hangs his head, at a loss to explain without admitting to the whole sordid truth. He can’t out Kit; he’s given his word. “I can’t kiss and tell this time, Yo. I made a promise. But I swear that if Kit agrees to date me, I won’t be with anybody else, only him. I wouldn’t want anybody but him anyhow,” he finishes in a voice that comes out smaller and sadder than he intended.

Yo’s lips part in surprise (another habit that can stun Pha speechless and stupid). “I think I’ve let P’Pha distract me from being a good friend,” he says softly, laying a comforting hand on Ming’s shoulder. “I’m truly sorry. Do I need to give Kit the shovel speech?”

“He’d murder you with his bare hands. He’s really mean, Yo.”

“And you’re falling for him.”

Ming sighs. “Yeah. I just don’t know how to make him fall for me.”


“P’Kitty,” Ming murmurs that night in bed, once he’s got Kit splayed out to worship him from head to toe, “tell me how else to please you.”

Kit’s belly trembles under Ming’s lips as he laughs, and for once it’s not his usual cynical snort of laughter—it’s so sweet and carefree and young that Ming raises his head to smile at him. 

“Ming, you’ve got me naked and hard as a damn rock,” Kit says, “with your mouth about to get very friendly with my dick. Trust me, I’m pleased.”

Ming smiles delightedly and rewards Kit with a quick but thorough lick that makes his whole body shudder in response. “I’m glad, but I’ve done this to you at least four times now—”

“Five.” At Ming’s surprised look, Kit rolls his eyes and enumerates: “Your bed, tent, hotel bed, car, shower.”

“Oh! You’re right. Five times now. So if you want anything different or more, you should tell me.”

This time he gets the snort, accompanied by a hand pushing his head back down. “Your mouth. My dick. Now.”


“Don’t talk with your—ohhh fuck, Ming—oh god yes, tilak, yes, please yes.”

Ming adores how responsive Kit is in bed, especially the filthy repertoire of moans, gasps, mewls, pleas and profanities he utters in the throes of passion. Ming has never studied a musical instrument but he imagines that learning to create beautiful music must feel satisfying in much the same way. When Kit’s breath catches, when a moan is forced from his lips, when Ming enters him and Kit makes a helpless, keening cry—it’s the sweetest music Ming has ever heard. 

The most beautiful sounds, though, are the words Kit has begun to utter spontaneously in the moments of greatest abandon. Bpakwaan, sweet mouth. Tilak, darling. Ming-chan. Kit says them at no other time; he gives no sign afterwards that he remembers saying them at all.

Still, they give Ming hope.

Chapter Text

pin i think i’m a terrible human being

Oh, Kit. I honestly doubt that. But why
do you think so? Is this about your boy?

yes here’s another photo of him

[image loading]

?? Honey, are you drunk? Because that’s a
golden retriever puppy.

that’s a picture of his SOUL, pin

and i am so, so fucked because who
can resist loving an adorable puppy with
big beautiful eyes who does nothing but
lick you & adore you?

Um. So the handsome boy is licking
and adoring you? And this is a problem?


and I know he’s sad because i won’t let him
tell anyone & i’m awful to him everywhere
except bed where it’s all beyond amazing...
way past fireworks, maybe a nationwide
franchise of fireworks stores by now? 

he’s like human sunshine pin & i treat
him like shit if there’s the slightest
chance someone will see us because
I SUCK & not in the good way

He’s sleeping on you again, isn’t he?
Right now?


And you’re falling in love with him.



Chapter Text

[After the Sun & Moon competition - episode 4 - segments 4_3/5 and 4_4/5 on YouTube]

Ming wins. 

Of course he wins. Adorable Wayo may have earned the sentimental vote with his gentle demeanor and sweet song, but Ming—strapping, handsome Ming, lighting up the stage with his warmth and charisma—he’s the one who takes it all. 

And Kit is so fucking proud. When the victor is announced, Kit doesn’t think twice: he leaps to his feet, screaming and whistling and clapping so hard his hands hurt. 

He’s grateful that the stage lights keep the audience in the dark for the performers; Beam’s startled look at his behavior is embarrassing enough without Ming seeing him lose his mind too. Even worse is the suspicious look that follows. Beam hasn’t really noticed anything amiss until now, but he’d have to be an idiot not to wonder why standoffish Kit is suddenly shrieking “Ming! Ming! Ming!” at the top of his lungs. 

He’s careful to stick with Yo’s entourage as they exit, although he’d have to be deaf not to hear the engineers shouting their victory chant for Ming. He hopes their commotion will cover his hasty escape, but no.

“P’Kit?” he hears from behind him.

His stomach full of butterflies, Kit turns to face the newly appointed Campus Moon.

Ming glows. He stands there apart from the celebrating engineers, smiling a soft smile that seems reserved for Kit alone, and he glows. There’s pride in his face, and a little smugness too as he holds up the WINNER sash meaningfully, but the look in his eyes—that’s all for Kit, and it nearly brings him to his knees. 

Kit feels exposed and vulnerable. He’s known all week that tonight could be a moment of reckoning for the two of them. Surely Ming’s win is the cue for Kit to step forward and claim him for all to see? If he and Ming are going to be anything to one another except a dirty little secret, this would be the perfect cinematic moment to embrace him, congratulate him like a good boyfriend should. He can see it in his mind’s eye: the slow smile beginning to bloom on his own face, the joy on Ming’s, the first hesitant step forward, the way Ming’s arms would open to draw him in. The heartfelt embrace, Kit lifted right off his feet by Ming’s exuberance. A happy tear or two, maybe. A kiss, definitely. Probably a cheer or catcall from the surprised onlookers. Kit can imagine it so clearly.

He just can’t do it.

Kit wavers, so drawn to that beautiful glow that he almost conquers his anxiety and shyness—almost takes those few steps to throw himself into Ming’s arms. But in the end the fear wins. He turns and stalks off instead, trusting as always that Ming will follow whether Kit deserves him or not. 

They end up at a bistro Ming knows; he seems to be something of a regular there, enough to order confidently for both of them. It’s surprisingly quiet; they practically have the place to themselves, which makes it less nerve-wracking for Kit. But it also feels very date-like and intimate, which ratchets his nerves right back up again. Still. There are no real witnesses, which means Kit can claim plausible deniability on whether he’s actually dating Ming now. That helps the tension in his belly begin to unwind just a little.

"Do you know,” Ming says after he’s given their order, “that even when I looked confident on stage, I was really nervous? Do you know why?”

“How the hell would I know that?” Kit counters.

“Because if I didn’t become the Moon, I wouldn’t be here with you.” And there’s that soft smile again, that just-for-Kit smile.

Kit feels his heart skip alarmingly. “Wait. So you want this title just because of me?  Why would you—really? What the hell?” The butterflies are back, and they’ve brought friends. 

Ming’s smile never dims. “When you’re shy, you always curse,” he says fondly. “Have you noticed?”

“Shy, your ass!” Kit bristles.


Kit opens his mouth, prepared to prove Ming’s point by cursing even more—but at that moment Ming’s phone rings, and the maddening freshman not only answers it, he puts it on speakerphone.

And that’s the moment their date—if it is a date—goes straight to hell.

“Hi, baby. Did you earn the title?” The girl’s voice is sweet and lilting and teasing, the voice of a young woman entirely confident in her man’s affections. Her man...Ming? His Ming? 

Ming certainly doesn’t deny it. Instead the arrogant asshole smirks and replies with perfect ease, “Oh, how did you know that?”

“My friend told me,” the unknown girl answers. “Congratulations! I know you worked really hard for it.”

For me, Kit thinks furiously. He said it was for me. 

Ming glances Kit’s way but he’s still smiling as though this is all perfectly acceptable. “Thank you!” he says. “So why didn’t you come see me?”

“Oh, you say that like our universities are so close together! Yours is almost out of the city. That’s why I didn’t want to go...but after my friend Waw showed me the pictures, I wished I had.”

Ming snickers. The bastard. The absolute bastard. "What a pity! I looked very handsome today."

“Of course!” chirps the girl. “My boyfriend is always handsome.”

Kit’s stomach lurches and his hands tighten into fists under the table. Her boyfriend. Her boyfriend. Her Ming. Not his. All those nights in his arms and apparently Ming has never been his? Oh god. He’s going to be sick.

For the first time, Ming seems to recognize that he’s crossed a line. Holding a finger to his lips to caution Kit not to speak, he hastily tells the girl, “Er...babe, I'm driving, let's talk later. I will call you."

“I’ll be waiting!”

Kit’s thoughts are chaos and his gut is roiling. He avoids Ming’s gaze as Ming tries to act as though an unseen third party didn’t just crash their date—and yes, it was a fucking date, goddamn it. Kit has to admit that now that the question is suddenly, horrifyingly moot. 

He wants to throw up. He wants to run away. He wants to do anything but continue to sit here with Ming, who’s calmly offering him appetizers or a game of pool. Pool, for fuck’s sake!

“I’m not really hungry,” Kit says woodenly. “I’m just not hungry anymore.”

Ming persists after their food arrives, trying to be cute, trying to act the boyfriend and feed Kit with his own chopsticks. Kit can’t even make sense of it. Doesn’t Ming know? Can’t he recognize what he’s just done?

“What are you trying to do?” Kit snaps when Ming tries again to feed him. He jerks his head away. “I’ll eat when I want.”

Ming’s chopsticks pause in mid-air. He cocks his head inquiringly. "Are you OK?" 

Kit gives him the death glare. "Don't you have anything else to say?  Really?”

At last Ming drops the pretense that all is well. He ducks his head, shamefaced “Ah. You mean Moowarn, right?”

“I don’t know. How should I know? Say what you have to say.”

Ming stares down at his plate. “Moowarn is my ex-girlfriend.”  

“What I just heard didn’t sound like an ex to me,” Kit retorts.

It seems to dawn on Ming—far too late—that he’s stumbled into deep shit here. He scrambles to explain but his words only serve to make Kit feel sicker and angrier.

“I’m just used to talking to her like that because we were together so long,” Ming says. “I forgot to think of how you would feel. Moowarn was the person I was with the longest of my thirteen exes. We dated over a year and then we broke up,” he continues, but he’s already lost Kit. Kit is stuck back on that number.

Thirteen exes.

"We were so close that after the breakup, we still call each other the same pet names. It’s just a habit. It doesn’t mean anything.”


“She likes to call me and I just talk to her as a friend."

Ming has thirteen exes. Including one who still calls him “baby” and “my boyfriend.”

Kit’s lips feel numb as he asks, “So why did you break up with her?”

“She caught me liking someone else.”

Kit slams his chopsticks down on their holder with a loud clack. “Damn you!”

"I didn't flirt with that person,” Ming hastens to add. “I didn't like them enough for that. But I also didn't feel that I loved Moowarn enough to keep on going with her. So I chose to stay single.”

Does Ming really think this explains anything away? Makes anything better? Kit just sits there shaking his head, stunned and sick and desperately wanting to escape. 

“P’Kit…” Ming’s voice has become wheedling in a way he’s never used with Kit before. “Don’t make that face. I’m trying to date the person I really like now. The person who’s sitting in front of me.”

“Don’t joke,” Kit mutters. He feels like a joke already, a pawn in some game he didn’t even know Ming was playing. God, this is a nightmare. 

“It’s not a joke,” Ming insists. “Even though I’m a playboy, when I fall in love with someone I love for real.” 

Wait. Is he implying…? Is Ming seriously trying to tell Kit that he loves him, right after revealing that he’s got an ex-girlfriend still on the string and a dating history to rival a gigolo? 

Ming is continuing to talk, apparently determined to rescue the situation, but Kit’s anxiety has reached the red zone. He can’t even process what Ming is saying anymore. He has to get back to his room. He has to get the fuck out of here.

Distantly Kit realizes that Ming is offering to stop talking to this Moowarn girl, to cut ties with her completely. Is that supposed to make it all better? It feels like too little, too late, and too harsh on a girl who probably doesn’t even know Kit exists.

"If you do it, you realize she would be sad?" he blurts out. 

Ming nods reluctantly. "But what about your feelings? If I continued talking to her and also dating you, how do you think that would feel?"

We can’t continue dating if we were never dating in the first place, Kit thinks. We were fucking. Just fucking. Nothing more.  

“Do whatever you want,” he says. “Let’s eat. It’s gone cold.”


Back on campus, they pause at the intersection of sidewalks that marks the parting of their ways. Engineering dorms to the left, medical to the right. The invitation is clear on Ming’s face, as it always is. But Kit just shakes his head.

“Not tonight, Mingkwan,” he says in a tone so cold that Ming recoils. “You should go call your girl.”

Kit hears Ming calling after him as he walks away, but he doesn’t pause. Doesn’t turn. And when he reaches his room, he doesn’t let himself cry.

Chapter Text

Ming walks back to his dormitory in a daze, wondering how a night that was supposed to be so special turned to abject misery instead. 

Because you’re an idiot, Mingkwan, he tells himself. In his head it sounds like Kit’s voice. Cold and hostile, the way Kit sounded tonight as they went their separate ways—just for now? Or for good? Ming honestly doesn’t know.

He wants to believe he hasn’t entirely wrecked his chances with Kit, but god...that look on his lover’s face. So hurt and betrayed. Ming has never seen Kit look so vulnerable and lost. 

“What’s this?” demands a voice from the shadows as he nears the dorm. “Why is my kid looking so miserable on such a happy night?”

Ming startles, then relaxes as he recognizes the figure stepping out from the darkness into the pool of light from the streetlamp. “P’Forth, you surprised me.”

“That makes two of us.” His senior steps up and grabs Ming by the chin, tipping his face toward the light. “What’s with this sad face, Nong? Why is the Campus Moon looking so heartbroken when he should be celebrating? Shit, you look even more upset than you did that night at the beach.” 

“P’Forth…” Ming tries to summon up a plausible lie, but he feels too tired and sad to invent anything. “P’Forth,” he repeats, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what to do.”


Forth comes back from the bar and places another drink in front of Ming. “Pace yourself this time,” he says sternly. “I’m not carrying your drunk ass out of here—you’re too damn big.”

“Thank you, P’Forth,” Ming says meekly.

“Now talk, Nong. What’s going on? Please don’t tell me you got some girl pregnant.” 

Even through his misery, Ming can’t help letting out a snort of laughter at that. “P’, for the first time in my dating life, that’s not something I have to worry about.”

Forth puts it together at once, which surprises Ming. But perhaps it shouldn’t; his senior is openly bisexual, after all. “Oho,” Forth says with a sudden grin. “Somebody has been taking a walk on the other side of the street! So this is a first for you?”

Hesitantly, Ming nods. “I’ve dated a lot, but only girls.”

“So what happened? He cheat on you? Dump you? Or did you two just have a fight? He is a pissy little bitch.”

Ming does a spit-take. “Wh-what do you mean?”

The older engineer crosses his muscular arms over his chest, giving Ming a knowing look. “I mean Kit. Oh, don’t look so shocked—I’m not stupid, Nong. You’ve been dancing around that bitchy little doctor for weeks with your tongue hanging out. I just didn’t realize you’d gotten anywhere. He’s always such an asshole to you.”

“It’s an act,” Ming says, then pauses. “Well. Not an act, exactly. Kit can be really mean. But only where other people can see, not when we—” He hesitates again.

“Not when you bang?” At Ming’s sheepish nod, Forth smirks. “So. Bitch on the streets, angel in the sheets?”

“Something like that.” Taking another slug of his drink, Ming decides he might as well go for it. He trusts Forth to keep his confidences. So he dives in, laying out the whole story for his senior, minus the graphic details, from that first impulsive kiss to the ugly scene tonight.

“I have to hand it to you,” Forth says when Ming has finished. “I never suspected a damn thing. Every single night? Really? In these dorms with the paper-thin walls? My freshies would usually be gossiping to me about something like this in ten minutes flat.”

“We usually put on music to help cover the noises,” Ming says. “And sometimes I…” Blushing, he demonstrates by clapping a hand over his mouth. He can’t help remembering the last time he did that to Kit, muffling his moans as they went for a second round just last night. Kit had bit his palm, triggering a moan of Ming’s own.

“Huh. Well. I guess it’s not noise control you need my help with here.” Forth knocks back his glass of whisky, finishing it off with the aplomb of long practice. “As I see it, N’Ming, you’ve got a couple of very different problems here. One is that Kit wants to keep you a secret, either because he’s repressed or shy or scared, and you don’t like being in the closet. The other problem is that you were a complete shithead tonight.” He holds up a forestalling hand when Ming opens his mouth to argue. “Just shut up. You were. You know you were. You flaunted an ex in front of him and made him think his feelings were just an afterthought to you. And on top of that, you just dumped your slutty dating history on him without any warning.”

“Hey! Who are you calling slutty?”

“Cool your jets, Nong. Nobody’s calling you a whore. Your sexy body, your sexy choice, right?” His senior gives him a teasing smile, and Ming suddenly realizes that Forth—despite his bad-boy swagger and his tattoo—actually has a ridiculously cute face, not tough at all. 

Forth? Cute? Huh. I guess I really am bisexual, Ming thinks. Not just Kit-sexual.

“But it’s not exactly common to have thirteen exes at age eighteen, is it?” Forth goes on. “So you have to cut Kit some slack for being shocked. He’s probably wondering now if he’s just a novelty to  you—if maybe you’re the nail-and-bail type who’s going to discard him as soon as you’re bored with the bedroom games. I don’t think our high-strung little Kitty would take that at all well.”

“I wouldn’t,” Ming protests. “P’Kitty is special to me, he’s—he—” Ming is horrified to feel his eyes filling with tears. “I love him, P’Forth. I really love him.”

“Aw, kid. C'mere.” Forth puts his arm around Ming’s shoulders to give him a rough hug. “Love’s a bitch, isn’t it? I’m sorry you’re in such a tangle. But if he feels the same way, then you’ve still got a shot. And I think he might. Tonight wouldn’t have upset him so much if he only wanted your body.”

Ming feels a surge of hope. “You really think so?”

His senior nods. “You’re a pretty lovable kid, N’Ming. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started falling for you after your very first time together.”

Ming’s shoulders droop. “Now you’re just teasing me, P’Forth. Nobody falls that fast from just a night of hot sex.”

Forth gives him a swift, sweet smile. “You might be surprised, Nong. Love and sex work in mysterious ways.”

Chapter Text

P’Kit are you still awake?

I guess not. I know it’s late.
The moon has almost set.


P’Kit I’m so sorry.
Please forgive me.


Meet me for breakfast?


Can I buy you lunch?


P’Kit can we please start over? I was 
so stupid last night but please believe
you’re really important to me.


Kitty-chan, please?


[Episode 5 - the day after the competition]   

Ming knows he’s being a hypocrite, but he can’t help feeling hurt when he learns from Pha, not Wayo, that the two are now dating. He’s so accustomed to hearing Yo’s every lovelorn sigh and obsessive thought of Pha that it’s a shock to realize that he’s become an afterthought in their story. 

“Is it true?” he demands when Yo emerges from class to find Pha and Ming both waiting. “And you didn’t tell your best friend?”

“When did I have the chance?” Yo says defensively. “It only just happened.”

Irked, Ming forces a squabble and then invites himself along on their lunch date out of spite, deliberately making himself a third wheel just to piss off the happy couple. He knows perfectly well that he’s being childish. But it cuts deep seeing Yo and Pha billing and cooing this morning, when he himself is on the outs with Kit.

Kit hasn’t answered any of his texts. He hasn’t even read them. Apologies, invitations, stickers, silly GIFs—all ignored.

“P’Pha, where is Kit today?” he finally ventures to ask over lunch, trying to sound casual when in truth he’s growing desperate for any word of his Kitty.

Pha gives him an amused and knowing look. “Asking about Kit? Why not ask about Beam?”

“You already know,” Ming mutters.

Because Beam isn’t his Earth. Beam is just some distant planet in another solar system entirely, one with no place in Ming’s orbit. 

Ming sneaks another glance at his phone. No reply. Still unread. Damn it all to hell.


Beam knows something is wrong. 

It started out funny, seeing big handsome Ming circling delicate little Kit like a dog slobbering after a particularly juicy bone. At first Beam leaped on it as just another excuse to tease his famously prickly best friend—because let’s face it, half the fun of being Kit’s friend is watching him hiss, spit, curse and glower. Kit’s got glowering down to an art form and he flings insults like a ninja wields throwing stars.

But ever since they got back from the beach, something is different. Kit’s been downright vicious to the lovestruck freshman, for one thing, which isn’t like him. Kit is surly by nature but he’s not cruel. So to see him actually smack Ming hard enough to rock the boy’s head back—which Beam witnessed just days ago—is frankly alarming. Beam hasn’t seen Kit this agitated since he was agonizing over asking out Pin in high school. 

Oh. Oh. Now that would explain a lot, wouldn’t it? What if Kit’s not annoyed—not more than usual anyway? What if Kit is smitten? 

Beam decides to test this intriguing theory. As he and Kit shop at the office supply store after class, he starts nudging Kit on the subject of dating in general and the Campus Moon in particular.

“Kit, you need to date someone,” he nags as his friend deliberates over pens as though it’s a life-or-death decision. “Lately you've seemed so damn lonely.”

“Huh!” snorts Kit. “I’m not. I’m just bored.”

“Bored? You have this year’s Moon of the University hanging all over you. You wouldn't even need to exert yourself to look for anyone else.”

When Kit doesn’t reply, Beam circles the display shelves to get a better look at his face. What he sees there takes him by surprise. Kit’s irritated, yes, but he’s also got dark circles under his eyes and a pinched, pained look to his face that’s more than just Kit being a drama queen. What the hell is going on?

“Hey, I’m just kidding,” Beam says more gently, circling back to Kit’s side. He lightly bumps shoulders with his friend, universal bro-speak for I love you, man, no homo.   “Come on. Why do you have to make a face like your dog is dead? If there’s anything bothering you, you know you can always talk to me, right?”

“It’s nothing,” Kit mutters, none too convincingly.

“Nothing? I’m your friend for how many years now? I can tell something’s wrong before you open your mouth to speak.”

“Beam.” Kit smacks Beam’s hand off his shoulder. “I said it’s nothing.”

Beam wants to probe further—but of course that’s the very moment the Campus Moon chooses to pop up like a grinning jack-in-the-box, complete with a happy exclamation of “Peek-a-boo!” Startled, Kit leaps back with a cry of “Shit!” and levels his fiercest glare at Ming. 

Well. That certainly isn’t the reaction of an infatuated lover, and does the old saying go? There’s a thin line between love and hate. And while Kit may look mad as hell, that’s definitely not hate Beam sees shining in Ming’s eyes.

Beam leans close to Kit’s ear. “Hey. Tell me the truth,” he murmurs. “Did you two do it? Did you and Ming fu— ouch! Dammit, Kit, that hurt.” He rubs his shoulder, which is probably going to bruise now; Kit can punch surprisingly hard for a small person. 

Kit gives no quarter. “Aren’t you lucky I didn’t slam this shelf on you? And you,” he adds to Ming, who’s still standing within his personal space, “can leave me the hell alone.” He stalks off toward the cashier, leaving both of them behind.

But the freshman Moon is tenacious, Beam will grant him that. Somehow Ming manages to wrangle a coffee date out of Kit right then and there—and holy shit, the way the two of them stare at each other before Kit acquiesces? They look like they’re debating whether to fight or fuck. What the hell? What did I miss? Beam wonders. When did he and Kit get so close?

The two are so intent on each other that they don’t even notice Beam quietly trailing them to the coffee shop, witnessing a series of telltale moments:  

Ming’s hand at the small of Kit’s back as he guides Kit out of the office supply store. 

How closely they walk, shoulders almost touching, heads turned intimately toward one another. 

The proprietary way Ming scoops Kit out of the path of a delivery man with a hand cart, drawing him aside into a narrow service corridor between two shops. 

The way Kit’s chin comes up, fierce and challenging, as he finds himself in the protective circle of Ming’s embrace. 

Beam stops in his tracks so suddenly that a woman walking behind him bumps his legs with her baby’s stroller. He barely hears her muttered insult or the baby’s squawk. He can only gape, astonished, as Ming and Kit stand locked in one another’s arms.

Ming and Kit. Kissing like lovers.

Chapter Text

“You’re not forgiven yet,” Kit manages to mutter between kisses. His heart is thumping alarmingly fast as Ming backs him further into the shadows of the service corridor. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Ming kisses his temple, the arch of one perfect eyebrow, his cheek, his chin. “I’m sorry.” Another kiss to his lips, lingering and sweet. “I’m sorry.” Another, open-mouthed and hungry. 

Kit bites him. He can’t help it. He doesn’t draw blood, not quite, but he nips hard at Ming’s lower lip and rakes his fingers down Ming’s back, triggering another round of kisses that are rough with want. Kit is still angry. Aroused, yes, but angry too. He feels caught in a terrifying tangle of conflicting desires, yearning simultaneously to hold Ming closer and push him away, slap him and caress him, take him and be taken and run, run, run from everything Ming makes him want and feel. 

“Why do we do this?” It comes out somewhere between a gasp and a sob. “Ming. It’s all too much. It hurts. It hurts.”

Ming’s arms loosen and his touch turns so gentle, so tender, hands cradling Kit’s face as he presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I never meant to hurt you, Kitty,” he whispers into Kit’s hair. “Maybe I didn’t want to love you at first either but I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”  

Kit closes his eyes and tips his chin up to invite one more kiss, this one so soft it’s barely there. Then he takes a calming breath and pulls away.

“Let’s go get that coffee now,” he says. “We need to talk.”


Beam is starting to think he’s sidestepped into an alternate reality. It’s not exactly a plausible explanation but right now it’s the only one he’s got.

How else to explain why Kit—his closest friend in the world, his confidant since middle school, his brother from another mother—has somehow neglected to mention that he’s not only gay but banging the Campus Moon on the down-low?

There’s no doubt in Beam’s mind now about that. Not given what he’s just seen. He can only laugh at his own naiveté earlier, thinking that Kit was just in the grip of an infatuation. That was no sweet little crush in action in that corridor, that was raw passion and pain. Kit is completely gone for Ming, heart and soul—and body too, because holy fucking hell, the heat between those two could start wildfires a mile away. Beam felt like a voyeur witnessing it. 

It’s almost funny, Beam thinks. They’ve all been so focused on the drama of Pha and Yo! Every eye has been fixed on the childhood sweethearts, rooting for them as their feelings bloom from puppy love to true love. And for extra drama there’s been Forth circling them both, eyeing Pha like a jealous rival and Yo like a tasty snack. No wonder they’ve taken the spotlight away from everyone else.

Meanwhile, somewhere behind the scenes, Ming and Kit became lovers. How? When? Where? And what kind of emotional toll is it taking on Kit? 

Still reeling from these revelations, Beam nonetheless manages to trail the couple to the coffee shop and install himself at a nearby table without them noticing. Well, no surprise there; they’re so engrossed in each other that Beam could probably set off a grenade near them and they’d barely blink. 

Beam’s table is just barely within eavesdropping distance. He catches some snippets, misses others, and is left to draw his own inferences between the lines. Kit is agitated, though; Beam can tell that from his body language alone. 

“... answer my Line?”

“... busy …”

“P’, am I bothering you that much?”

“Let me speak frankly ... promise me…”

“... prepare myself for this ...”

“Hey!” Kit snaps. “Why do you have to put on such an act? Why? You think you already know what I’m going to say?” 

Kit’s voice is rising, sharpening. On the plus side, that makes him easier to hear. But it also tells Beam that Kit is upset and feeling vulnerable. Doesn’t Ming care? If they’re so close, why isn’t Ming comforting Kit, holding his hand? Does this conceited Moon think Kit is good enough to molest in a dark hallway but not to cherish in the full light of day? 

And now Ming seems to be mimicking him? Maybe even mocking him? What the actual fuck? 

“Ming! Get the hell out of here!” pronounces Ming imperiously, imitating Kit. “I will never love you. You are a playboy and never sincere!”

Beam can hear most of Kit’s response, which only serves to heighten his anger at Ming. Apparently Ming is a player who's been carrying on with some girl as well as Kit? That two-timing bastard! And now that he’s been found out and offered to drop the girl, Kit is understandably questioning his sincerity.

"...said you would stop talking to that girl and date me … felt guilty … wonder if you ever loved her? … if I date you and you do the same shit you did to her…”

Ming has the nerve to look delighted at this. “P’, are you thinking of dating me?”

“Damn you!”

Ming is so delighted he's practically giggling. “I have that much effect on you?”

Beam’s had it. He doesn’t want to hear another word of that selfish son of a bitch making light of his friend’s feelings. “Kit!” he calls out sharply, not caring that he’s blowing his cover. “Can we leave now?”

Startled, Kit whirls around in his chair as Beam gets up and stalks over to their table. “Beam! What are you doing here?”

He ignores the question. “Are you done with your business? Let’s go.”

Kit opens his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Ming. “Wait, I was going to—”

“I’m not talking to you,” Beam snaps. “Kit, we’re going. Now .” 

And with that he unceremoniously grabs hold of Kit’s wrist and hauls him away, leaving a dumbfounded young Moon behind.

Chapter Text

[Episode 5 - 5_3/5 on YouTube]

"Me and Kit, we just talked and decided to be lovers."

Ming isn’t a violent person by nature. He practices Muay Thai as a form of exercise and self-discipline, not because he wants to be a real fighter. But right now, standing in Kit’s room staring at another man with his arm around Kit—claiming Kit—he feels a surge of savage jealousy the likes of which he’s never experienced before. 

It’s ridiculous. Ming knows they’re lying. All it takes is a glance at Kit’s shocked face to know that he’s as surprised by Beam’s sudden pronouncement as Ming and Pha. But he can’t for the life of him understand what kind of game they’re trying to play here. Is it to make him jealous? Some kind of ill-conceived retaliation for his conversation with Moowarn?

Pha clearly isn’t buying it either. “What the hell are you playing at?” he demands of his friends, staring from Beam to Kit and back again.

Beam just doubles down. “It’s true,” he insists, jutting out his chin stubbornly. “We just talked about it. Right, Kitty-chan?”

No. Oh hell no. That’s his Kitty-chan, goddamn it, not Beam’s! Ming wants to knock the infuriating smirk right off Beam’s face. He wants to erase Beam’s smug smile with his fist and yank Kit out of Beam’s grasp. He wants to haul Kit back where he belongs: in Ming’s own arms. Preferably on that bed over there, after shoving that asshole Beam and his interfering friend Pha right out the door.

Overcome with confusion, Ming can only look to Kit, waiting for him to set the record straight. But instead Kit reinforces the lie.

“Uh...right,” he mutters. “Beam and I, we” 

Kit is quite possibly the worst liar on Earth. His stammered confirmation is the least convincing falsehood Ming has ever heard—and that includes seeing a five-year-old Yo deny robbing the cookie jar when his lips were still smeared with chocolate and crumbs. But hearing him say those words is still a knife to Ming’s heart. He had his hands and mouth on Kit not an hour ago. They talked about dating. Why is Kit is toying with him this way?

Beam is continuing to snipe at Ming, ordering him to “stop bothering my boyfriend,” but Ming has tuned that bastard out. He only has eyes for Kit, who’s standing there tucked under Beam’s arm, looking small and miserable but denying nothing.

“Kit,” Ming says softly, his eyes pleading with his lover. “Are you joking? What about our talk earlier?

“Well, I—” Kit begins, only to be interrupted by Beam planting a kiss on his cheek. 

Like the lie, the kiss is utterly unconvincing. And like the lie, it cuts Ming deep.

Ming never realized it could take so much effort simply to stand in place and keep silent. He’s trembling with the effort of it. He knows that if he unleashes the anger he’s feeling, he’s going to end up smashing more than Beam’s nose—he’ll smash friendships too, and whatever slim chance remains to salvage his relationship with Kit. If that’s even what he wants anymore.

Who is he kidding? Of course it’s what he wants. His Kitty. His lover. The boy who holds Ming’s heart in his small, angry hands.

In the end all Ming can do is turn tail and flee, hoping against hope that Kit will stop him—call after him—laugh and tell him it’s all a mistake. But Kit doesn’t. He doesn’t say a word.


He talks to Yo. It doesn’t help. 

He buys a six-pack and knocks back four cans in rapid succession in the solitude of his room. It doesn’t help.

He watches a boylove TV series on his laptop, shouting at the coy uke and hotheaded seme who comprise the main couple to “get your fucking act together, you fucking idiots, you were fucking made for each other and you’re too fucking stupid to fucking know it!” It doesn’t help, and now he’s going to have to tune in next week to see if these morons ever wise up and kiss.

He tries to jerk off, sternly ordering himself not to think of Kit. He fails at both.

He almost calls Moowarn, but even in his drunken state he recognizes what a spectacularly stupid move that would be. Ditto calling Kit to demand an explanation.

He drinks the last two cans of beer and reaches for his phone again.



Forht youd do me if I was little like Yo, rihgt?

What? Kid, are you drunk?

If i were Yo-sized would you fukc me

Is this like that meme about “Would you
rather fight one horse-sized duck or 100
duck-sized horses?"


Fine. So in this scenario you look just like you
do now, but you’re shrunk down to Yo’s height?
Fun size?


That’s obvious then. Hell yeah. I’d be fucking
you right now instead of answering stupid
drunk questions from heartbroken freshies.

reelly?? that's so sweete.

Have you seen you? Fuck yes. I’d be balls-deep in
you, you’d be screaming my name, blah blah blah.

Now that we’ve settled that, are you going to tell
me what’s actually wrong? Is it Kit again?


Kid, answer me goddammit or I’m gonna
come looking for you and kick your ass.




Ming wakes up to the devil’s own hangover and three mysterious Post-it notes.

On the king-sized water bottle that’s appeared on his bedside table along with four ibuprofen tablets: DRINK ME.

On a covered bowl of congee on his desk: EAT ME.


As he brings the phone closer to his face, Ming sees that there’s a tiny P.S. on that third Post-It:

In case you’re wondering: No, we didn’t.

Chapter Text

[Episode 6]

Despite Forth’s efforts to provide hangover relief, Ming’s day is an agonizing blur punctuated by skull-piercing headache pain and strange confrontations. First it’s the angel gang asking him to judge their hotness. Next it’s Yo’s creepy-ass admirer Park hinting nastily that Yo is two-timing Pha with Ming. 

And then, from out of nowhere, Moowarn. Moowarn in the flesh, screaming “Darling!” and tripping in her eagerness to rush into his arms.

Ming blinks, wondering if he’s hallucinating, but no. She’s still here. He takes a disconcerted step backwards. “Moowarn, what are you doing here?” he demands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I did,” she replies pertly, flashing him the bright smile that had so captivated him in the early days of their relationship. It doesn’t captivate him now. 

Instead, as she babbles on about spending the day with him, Ming finds himself seeing Moowarn with new eyes. Yes, Moowarn is vivacious and beautiful—even Yo thinks so, he can tell, and Yo is gayer than a rainbow at a Pride parade. But her voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard, her manner is a mix of posturing and wheedling, and this is just one of many times she’s tried to commandeer his time without consulting him first. 

Also? She’s not Kit. His head is splitting, his heart aches, and he wants nothing more than to hold his Kitty again.

“Who asked you to be here?” he finds himself retorting rudely as Moowarn continues to press the issue of tagging along to his photoshoot. He can see the hurt in her eyes at that but he doesn’t relent. With Kit already furious with him over his ambiguous status with Moowarn, this is the worst possible time for her to turn up acting all lovey-dovey. 

If she ruins his last chance with Kit, he’s going to practice his Muay Thai on her well-rounded ass.

Ming tries to resist her coaxing, but she’s relentless and old habits die hard. So of course she wears him down and accompanies him to the shoot, and of course Kit shows up and sees her. Because this is Ming’s lot in life today: jester in the court of some angry god. Maybe it’s karma, as he suggested to Yo earlier. Vengeance for his playboy ways that left so many girls weeping in his wake.

Ming chases after Kit but the damage is done; his P’Kitty is so hurt and angry that he clings even more fiercely to Beam’s lie, like a life preserver in a white-capped sea.

“Just get lost!” Kit shouts when Ming presses him. “Beam and I are together. Now stop bothering me! Go find someone else.” 

He’s stalking away and Ming can’t bear it. “Kitty-chan, I'm begging you, please…

Kit halts in his tracks but doesn’t turn.

Ming steps up close behind him, close enough to touch if he dared, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. 

“P’Kit, I love you.”

Kit sucks in his breath with a startled hiss, and he almost turns. Ming can see it in his posture, the way the muscles of his back and shoulders shift and tighten, the way one foot angles out and Kit’s head starts to turn.. 

Then his head droops. The wayward foot straightens. 

“Go find someone else,” Kit says loudly. “Go love someone else.” 


Forth finds him still standing there, staring down the corridor even though Kit has long since disappeared. Ming doesn’t tell him what happened; he doesn’t have to. Forth reads it in the devastation on his face. 

Without a word, caring not one whit that anyone might see, Forth gathers his junior up in his arms and hugs him so hard his ribs creak. 

“Aw, Nong. I’m so sorry.” Forth pets his head with a surprisingly gentle hand, stroking Ming’s hair. “I know it feels like the end of the world right now, but you’ll get through this. One way or the other. I promise you.”

“But what should I do?” Ming wails into Forth’s shoulder. He’s embarrassed at how childish he sounds, like a little boy lost. 

Forth pats his back. “That depends, kid. Are you ready to give up and retreat? Or do you want to keep pursuing him?”

Ming sighs deeply, allowing himself just a moment longer in Forth’s comforting hold before facing that question. Forth can be scary—Ming’s seen him hazing his juniors so savagely that he thought some of them were going to pee themselves. But anyone who makes it into his inner circle quickly learns that Forth is also warm and caring and direct with his affections. One of his own needs him? He’s there. You’ve messed with one of his? You’re dead. He’s exactly the big brother Ming needs right now, and Ming flat-out loves him for it. He squeezes Forth in gratitude, breathing in the sweat-and-machine-oil scent of him, and earns another kindly pat on the back in return.

With his luck today, though, somebody is probably snapping a photo and starting a rumor that he is Forth’s new boyfriend. And wouldn’t that put the final nail in the coffin of his relationship with Kit? 

Ming raises his head and steps back to meet his senior’s gaze with new determination. “I’m not giving up,” he declares.

“Good man!” Forth chucks him lightly under the chin with one big fist. “Then you know what you’ve got to do.”

“Uh. I do?”

“Of course you do. Send that girl packing—and go after your man.”

Chapter Text

“Send that girl packing and go after your man.”

Shored up by Forth’s words, Ming finds it surprisingly easy to stand firm with Moowarn. He recognizes now that she’ll never truly give up so long as he leaves the door open to her even a crack. The only option is to close it right in her face. The friendly chats, her calling him “boyfriend,” all the little intimacies he allowed to continue because they felt harmless before Kit came along—they all have to stop.  

He squares his shoulders and meets her eyes without dissembling. “I told you before that I’m not into you anymore,” he says point blank as they face each other next to his parked car. “Why did you come?”

Unsurprisingly, Moowarn shifts straight into bargaining mode. “But I miss you and want to see you so much,” she says plaintively. “Maybe I still have a chance?”

Gazing into her hurt face, Ming can’t help but remember other, happier times. His first glimpse of her at a mutual friend’s birthday party, Moowarn dancing in a short pink dress with flowers in her hair. Their first kiss on a footbridge one warm spring evening, her hand softly caressing the back of his neck and her lips parting sweetly against his. Intimate moments with her spread out under him, warm and eager. They’d been good in bed together, better than anyone until Kit, but out of bed...somehow it had all begun to feel like a play they were performing, one entitled The Beautiful Girl and the Rich Boy Who Loved Her. Moowarn knew exactly what she expected of a boyfriend; she fed him his lines and Ming spoke them on cue. But it never felt quite real. Always he had the suspicion that for Moowarn, any handsome boy from a wealthy family would do. Any script would do, so long as it ended with an extravagant wedding in Act Three. 

Never once had he stood with Moowarn on a beach under the stars, heart racing, wondering aloud how the moon feels about the earth.

“I’m sorry, Moowarn,” he says gently. “From now on we can only be friends. Please don’t make it more complicated.”

An angry flush stains her cheekbones at his words. She shoves at his chest, hard enough to push him backward. “Asshole! You will always be you. A selfish prick!”

“I know I’m bad. I was bad,” Ming amends. “But I have found someone I love and I don't want to hurt that person. I’m sorry.”

His person. His Kit. His precious Kitty. 

 I’m sorry,” he says again. “Take care."

Ming gets in his car, slams the door shut and locks it. He drives away with her curses still echoing in his ears as Moowarn grows ever smaller in the rear-view mirror.


Feelings are exhausting. Kit would like to stop having them now, thank you very much. With that goal in mind he knocks back another drink, trying to ignore Pha’s disapproving gaze.

“Slow down, Lil’ Tiger,” Pha says. “Are you going to make me carry you home this early?”

“Shut up. We can’t all be like you and little Yo.” A pastel storybook, is what Kit means. A cute little romantic comedy filled with heart-eyes and shy smiles. Nothing that bites. Nothing that hurts.

“You act like you were dumped.”

The irony is that if he’d actually been dumped, Pha would be buying the drinks and commiserating as kindly as can be. Pha can be a particular brand of selfish jerk sometimes but the dude is also a hopeless romantic, and as such he’s unfailingly kind to the brokenhearted. After Kit and Pin broke up, Pha had collected Beam and showed up on Kit’s doorstep with pizza, beer, and sympathy, keeping him company all night with manly hugs and drunken sentimental toasts to better days ahead as college men.

Kit still can’t bring himself to come clean to Pha, though. He’s caught too firmly in his own web of lies to untangle himself now. There’s been too much secrecy, too many lies of omission. He just can’t summon the energy to explain it all in enough detail for Pha to understand his pain. 

Seeing that pretty girl fawning over Ming. God. They looked like they’d stepped out of a romantic movie poster, all glossy and smiling. What would Ming want with a small angry man who tried to hide him in the shadows, when he could walk proudly in the sunlight with a girl like that? 

And then there’s this business with Beam. What the hell? 

“Why is Beam doing this?” Kit demands of Pha. “Shit! I saw him flirting with girls every day. Every day! Suddenly he tells me he likes me and disappears? And Ming too, goddamn it.”

“Your heart is so indecisive, Kit. Beam must have his own reasons—he’ll be back when he’s ready.” Suddenly Pha’s eyes narrow. “But I think what Beam did doesn’t bother you as much as what Ming did,” he says slowly, his gaze so discerning that Kit shifts uneasily in his seat. “Am I right?”

Kit’s got no answer for that except an expletive, so he takes a drink instead. Unfortunately, that’s when Beam decides to appear from nowhere, silent as a goddamn cat, startling Kit so badly that he manages first to gasp booze into his lungs and then spew it explosively all over Beam’s face.

“You little shit!” Beam yelps.

For a moment everything is chaos. Kit is coughing, Beam is cursing, Pha is laughing—and then Beam is struggling his way through an explanation and an apology and somehow they’re all right again, the three of them. And Kit is so damn relieved. The Wild Doctor Gang is like the Three Musketeers: All for one and one for all. Being at odds with one another, even for a little while, had sent Kit’s anxiety level soaring into the stratosphere.

Beam smiles at him, his relief every bit as obvious as Kit’s. "Hey,” he says gently. “Still angry, Kitty?"

Kit snorts. “Get off. I'm only angry ‘cause you called me Kitty.”

“I’m sorry. Forgive me? Please, pleaaaase?” Beam scritches Kit under the chin, earning himself a slap but a smile too.

“Okay, okay! Just don’t ever do this shit again.” 

They’re smiling, they’re laughing, they toast, and for ten glorious seconds Kit thinks this evening is really looking up. 

And then Ming walks in.

With a curse that comes out sounding like a mouse’s squeak, Kit dives behind Beam and tries to disappear.

Chapter Text

[Episode 6 - the bar and Kit’s room - 6_3/5 on YouTube]

Kit’s heart aches when he sees Ming drowning his sorrows all alone, drinking too hard and too fast.

Kit’s heart skips a beat when Ming collapses to the floor with a crash of glassware.

Kit’s heart fills with reluctant tenderness when Ming is stretched out beside him on the bed, his face sweet and vulnerable in sleep. 

Kit’s heart wants what it wants, and he’s done fighting it. At least for tonight.

Ming opens his eyes.


This is our first kiss, Kit thinks as their lips meet.

It’s an absurd idea. There’s probably not a square inch of Kit’s body that hasn’t already felt the touch of Ming’s lips. Hell, there’s a spot at the base of Kit’s throat that Ming has worshiped so thoroughly that he’s probably been kissed a hundred times in that place alone. Why should this feel like the first time? And yet it does. 

It’s because we’re starting over.

One kiss becomes two, gentle and fleeting. Compared to their past kisses these are barely a taste, soft as a whisper. But both boys are smiling faintly as Ming draws back, gazing at one another as heart-eyed as ever Yo looked at Pha.

It’s because we’re in love.

Kit might have said the words right then—he can almost taste them on his tongue, effervescent as champagne. But in love or not he’s still Kit, and Ming has one last reckoning to face.

“Ming,” he murmurs in honeyed tones. “You were faking?”

“Did it seem real?” Ming makes a rookie mistake then: he smirks. 

Oh, you boy. You foolish boy. “Can you remember what I said?” Kit prompts ever so softly, ever so sweetly.  “That I’d kick you if you were faking?”

“I believe you are not a harsh person,” Ming says. His eyes are shining with love and trust, probably still basking in the afterglow of those two sweet kisses. He really is ridiculously handsome.

It’s almost a shame to break the mood of a moment so heartwarming. But a threat is meaningless without follow-through, and Kit has a reputation to uphold. 

“Ming!” he snaps—and just as Ming’s eyes widen in alarm he kicks out hard, connecting squarely with Ming’s midsection. 

There’s a faint but satisfying cry of “Ouch!” as Ming topples over the edge. 

Kit grins. 

His heart may be overflowing with love, but Kitty still has claws. 

“Go take a shower,” he orders the boy on the floor. “You’re not getting back in my bed smelling like a bar.”


Fifteen minutes later a sheepish Ming edges back into the room wearing only a towel, giving Kit a spectacular view of about an acre of flawless golden skin and legs that go on for miles. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but damn. That boy cleans up well.

“You probably don’t have pajamas that would fit me,” Ming says apologetically. “Maybe I can borrow a robe?”

“Maybe,” Kit says. “But I need you to do two things for me first, OK?”

Ming nods eagerly. “Anything, P’Kit. What two things?”

Kit draws a deep breath. 

“Drop the towel,” he says, “and make love to me.”

Chapter Text

“Make love to me.”

Ming’s heart almost leaps out of his chest. His pulse is pounding so hard he can hear it in his ears like the bass beat at a nightclub.

Kit has never used those words before. Never. He’s growled fuck me, he’s begged give it to me, he’s cried out take me (Ming’s personal favorite). He’s moaned a dozen different variations on suck me, touch me, do me, have me, make me come, and Ming has joyfully obeyed each and every one. But Kit has never once called it making love

It’s not quite “I love you.” Not yet. But from Kit it’s such a huge step in that direction that Ming is overwhelmed by the emotion of it.

“Oh god yes,” he blurts out stupidly. His hands fumble with the knot of the towel and he nearly trips in his haste to get across the room to his Kit—arriving naked before him so tongue-tied by love that all he can do is repeat, “Yes. Yes, P’Kit, oh yes.”

Kit is trying and failing to hold back a smile. “Yay?” he teases.

Yay ,” Ming agrees fervently. “All the yay, Kitty. So much yay.” And he’s laughing, but trembling too as he reaches out to cradle Kit’s beloved face between his two big hands.

Everything slows down for Ming then. He’s in the grip of such intense emotion that every sensation, every detail is heightened to a degree that leaves him too overcome for words. Only his body can speak for him now.

The exquisite bone structure of Kit’s face between Ming’s palms is a work of art as fine as a hand-carved jade vase, and infinitely more precious. The shape of Kit’s mouth against Ming’s is sacred as a prayer. The heat of Kit’s body as Ming gathers him close is a blessing. The taste of Kit’s skin is a gift.

“Ohhh,” Kit sighs as Ming’s lips brush soft kisses down his neck. “Oh, Ming. My Ming.”

With reverential fingers Ming divests Kit of his pajamas and gently lowers him onto the bed, spreading Kit out like a banquet: head tipped back on the pillow, arms raised over his head, thighs open, all that beautiful skin so inviting and ready for Ming’s touch. God but he’s a gorgeous sight. Ming doesn’t know whether to worship him or devour him. Both? 

Ming uses his fingers and palms to map the lines of Kit’s body from head to toe, beginning with the silken strands of his hair. He traces the delicate ears and the sharp line of Kit’s perfect jaw. He pinches Kit’s sweet chin, brushes downward across the pale throat and onward, stroking the hard line of his collarbones and the curve of his ribs. He outlines the sweet brown circles of Kit’s nipples with his fingertips. He presses both hands flat to Kit’s belly, feeling its rise and fall with Kit’s increasingly agitated breaths. He grips Kit’s hip bones as he takes in the sight of the perfect cock between them, rising hard and smooth above its neat nest of raven hair. Ming deliberately avoids touching Kit there, for now. Instead he strokes his palms down Kit’s thighs, cups the caps of his knees, lightly squeezes his calves. He finishes up by massaging Kit’s feet, working his thumbs into the high arches until Kit groans with pleasure.

Ming then reverses course to traverse Kit from toes to head—this time with lips and tongue, lingering over each and every place that makes Kit sigh or moan, with the notable exception of his groin. Not yet. Not yet.

By the time he arrives back at Kit’s mouth, Kit is nearly incoherent and Ming himself is gasping and so hard he aches. It’s a desperate relief to cover Kit’s body with his own and rock against him as they kiss, first sweetly and then fiercely. He tastes salt on Kit’s tongue. Which of them is crying?’s both. Good. That’s all right then. So long as they’re in this together.

Kit is murmuring something against Ming’s mouth, soft and plaintive. Ming raises his head, gazing into that beloved face now streaked with tears. “What is it, Kitty-chan?” he asks tenderly.

“Love me,” Kit whispers. “Please love me, Ming-Ming.”

“Always,” Ming promises. "Always.” 

Ming means to take his Kitty apart then, possess him and take him till there’s no pleasure left to be wrung from that beautiful, precious body. But he’s only proceeded as far as a single kiss before Kit halts him, bringing a finger to Ming’s mouth in the same shushing gesture Ming used earlier upon “waking” from his faux drunken sleep.

“No,” Kit says. 

“No?” Bewildered, Ming struggles to bite back a cry of protest. Oh god. He wants this so much it physically hurts to think of stopping, but if his Kit says No…

“No,” Kit says, pushing Ming onto his back. “Let me.” 

Let me. Those are the second sweetest words he’s ever heard from his Kitty’s mouth, prelude to the sweetest night.

What Ming began slowly and tenderly, Kit continues with passionate need. It’s like a dam breaking, Kit’s small body moving on Ming’s with an urgency that leaves Ming gasping, and oh god his hands and mouth are everywhere. Kissing, stroking, sucking, fingering, tonguing, everywhere. In a matter of minutes he’s got Ming moaning desperately; a few minutes more and Ming is lubed and prepped and begging hoarsely for more.

Given Ming’s greater experience and his size, their friends would probably be surprised to learn—not that Ming would ever tell them!—that he and Kit don’t follow the stereotypical roles in bed. Sure, more times than not Ming has topped or at least initiated, but there’s nothing passive about Kit. Kit is a bossy, bitchy, demanding little bottom when Ming tops, and on two memorable occasions he’s fucked Ming to a shuddering climax. So Ming’s not surprised and he’s definitely not displeased to have Kit take the initiative now. 

“Oh god yes, Kitty-chan,” he moans as Kit pushes him onto his knees. “Fuck yes. I want to feel that gorgeous cock in me.” 

At the moment of truth, Kit positions Ming’s hands on the headboard. He’s still for a moment then, hands tight on Ming’s hips, breath warm on Ming’s back. Then, slowly, he presses a soft kiss between Ming’s shoulder blades and pushes himself into the welcoming heat of Ming’s body.

Ming’s cry is sharp and desperate, almost a sob. He wants this so much. Needs this so much. Loves this boy so much. 

“Yes, yes, yes,” he chants as Kit begins to move in him, first with slow shallow thrusts and then deeper, harder, taking Ming to new heights of pleasure with every stroke. “Oh my god, Kit, yes. Oh sweetheart, oh beautiful, yes, yes—” 

Kit moans wordlessly. Dimly Ming understands that Kit too is letting his body speak for him, expressing what he still can’t say out loud. I need you. I want you. I love you. But Ming can hear it anyway, in the sound of Kit’s gasping breaths and their bodies meeting. It's beautiful. It's so beautiful. The first music, the oldest music in the world, singing in them and through them. 

“My Ming.” One of Kit’s hands is gripping his shoulder now, while the other steals around to grasp Ming’s cock, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts. Ming makes a low, animal sound of pleasure deep in his throat. 

“I’m not going to last, Kitty,” he groans. “But I want to see you.”

Kit murmurs his assent and they reposition, this time with the smaller boy on his back while Ming straddles him, using his considerable strength to keep much of his weight from burdening Kit. This position is new for them; Kit has ridden Ming before but never the reverse. He experiments briefly, spreading his thighs wider to improve the angle as he sinks down onto Kit’s cock. When he takes Kit deep enough to find the sweet spot his breath hisses between his teeth, bringing a feral smile to Kit’s face.

“God, you look good on me.”

“You look good...under me. Or...over. Anywhere.” Ming is panting a little now as he settles into a fast, hard up-and-down rhythm that makes them both moan. As Ming works to keep the tempo, powerful thigh muscles flexing, Kit’s hand resumes stroking Ming’s cock.

Tilak ,” Kit breathes. “So good, I—oh fuck, I can’t, I Ming. Ming!”   He cries out sharply, arching his back, wracked by the force of his own release even as Ming’s fountains out in a hot spurt across Kit’s belly. 

“My Kitty. Oh god, Kitty.” Ming is shuddering in pleasure, struggling simultaneously to keep his weight from crushing Kit and bend low enough to kiss him. He smears his own cum between them in his efforts, but he doesn’t care. He’s babbling, and he doesn’t care. “My beautiful KitKat. My sweetheart. Sweet Kitty, oh Kitty, I love you, I love you. I love you so much.”

Kit doesn’t say the words but Ming’s heart is still bursting with joy, because Kit is clinging to him and kissing him back, and Kit’s hands are tender on his body, and Kit is happy

Kit is happy and Kit is his, and Ming is going to love him as long as there’s breath in his body and a moon in the sky.

Chapter Text


“Hm-mmm? Sorry, I was drifting off. Somebody wore me out.”

“I just wanted to say that I—well. You know. Shit! I’m so fucking bad at this. But I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, P’Kit. So glad.”

“Sometimes I wish I could be different for you.”

“How do you mean?”

“Braver, mostly. I know you’d be happier if I came out to the world as your boyfriend instead of sneaking around. I’m sorry that I’m not ready to do that. It’s not fair to you.”

“Don’t worry about that, OK? I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for, Kitty, not ever. But...can I ask what scares you? What are you afraid would happen if people knew?”

“I worry that word will get back to my parents. They’re so conservative, Ming, and Bangkok’s Chinatown has a gossip grapevine like you wouldn’t believe—everybody is connected, everybody knows everybody else’s business. There are at least a dozen students here from our high school in my class year alone, and you’re the Campus Moon now. There’s no way to be your boyfriend openly and stay under the radar at home.”

“You think they’d disapprove?”

“Or worse. A second cousin of mine came out a few years ago and his parents disowned him completely. They cut him off financially in the middle of his first year of college and told him not to bother ever coming home again unless he brought a wife with him. ‘Until then you are not our son.’ And my parents? All they talked about was how badly my cousin disappointed his mother and father and shamed the family. Not a word about how my cousin had to drop out of university and struggle alone at eighteen with no family support, no money, no college education, nothing. I talk to him sometimes. He’s living in a terrible neighborhood, working two shitty jobs, barely making ends meet.”

“Oh, KitKat, that’s awful. I—I can’t imagine my parents would ever do that. I only dated girls before you, but they love little Yo like a second son and they know he’s gay. They even asked me once if Yo and I...well, you know how close we are. It’s not surprising they wondered.”

“Shit! I never thought to wonder until you said that.”

“What? Eww, Kitty, no! Yo isn’t just my best friend, he’s like a brother to me. I’ve never felt like that about him. Besides, he wouldn’t be my type anyway.”

“Really? Why not? Everybody else seems to think Yo is cuter than a pile of puppies.”

“Oh, sure, Yo is adorable! But as a boyfriend I think he’d be awfully needy and high-maintenance, don't you? Yo needs a lot of babying and doting and reassurance, maybe because he lost his mom so young that he’s got these big abandonment issues deep down. I think his love relationships will always be about someone taking care of him and loving him unconditionally, while he basks in that and reflects it back. And he totally deserves that! But I always imagined the person I loved would be more...well…”

“More what?”

“An equal partner beside me, I guess? The two of us against the world. They’d always have my back, and I’d have theirs—we'd work together and protect each other and stand together against anything life might throw at us. If anybody was against us, we’d just hold hands and tell them to go to hell.”

“Ha! It sounds like you’re describing a fellow soldier, not a spouse. Except for the hand-holding.”

“Well, I always imagined a lot of sex too.”

“I’ll bet you did, you horny buffalo. I guess I’ve lived up to that part of your dream at least, huh? We’re doing it all the damn time.”

“Not all the time. Not right now, for instance.”


“Yes, Kitty?”

“I can’t help but notice you’ve got your hand on my ass.”

“Mm. You have a really lovely ass, P’Kit.”

“And your other hand is on my—”

“Yes. That’s lovely too. Do you want me to stop?”

“God no, I—Ming. No. Please don’t stop.”

“I love you, Kit.”

“Please don’t stop.”




“What you said before...I don’t mind keeping things quiet till you’re ready. But can I ask a favor?”

“Sexual or otherwise?”

“Otherwise. But I might want to change my answer by morning.”

“OK, what is it?”

“Will you promise me that you’ll clear things up with Beam? I knew it was all a lie from the start, still hurt me, Kitty.”

“Oh, Ming. Dammit. Dammit. You’re right, that was messed up and I am so fucking sorry.”

“I can stand not having everyone know you’re mine, at least for now. But I can’t bear seeing someone else claim you like that. Kiss you like that. I just can’t.”

“I know. I’m so sorry, I—god, I’m such an idiot. Come here, tilak, be my big spoon again, OK? It’ll never happen again.”

“You promise?”

 “I promise.“

Chapter Text

[Coincides with the canteen scene in segments 6_5/5 and 7_1/5 on YouTube]

“Can I tell Yo?” Ming asks Kit over chocolate cake.  

He’d meant to ask that immediately, but there were so many distractions: Kit’s reluctant little smile, his reflexive insults about the size of the treat Ming had ordered, and of course the heart-melting cuteness of Kit wearing glasses, which immediately spawns a fantasy about Kit wearing nothing except the glasses.

Then it turned out Ming had missed some messages Kit sent while he was sleeping, which required sweet apologies to soothe his Kitty’s ruffled a little footsy under the table, which led abruptly to a different kind of “study break” in the restroom, and then Kit scolding Ming for taking him away from his textbooks...followed by Ming kissing and petting him back to contentedness and plying him with more cake “to keep your strength up for exams, KitKat,” and…

...and Kit licking frosting off his spoon slowly with little flicks of his dainty pink tongue, with an expression of utter innocence but his eyes unwavering on Ming, and…

...and holy fucking hell it's hot today and what were they talking about again?

Oh, yes. Yo.

“Yo is starting to notice that I’m too happy,” Ming explains, which earns a raised eyebrow from Kit. 

“Too happy,” Kit echoes. “He barely noticed when we were fighting and you were miserable, but suddenly happy is a problem? Is that why you’ve made yourself scarce the past few days?”

“And to let you study,” Ming says with a shrug. “But partly that, yeah. He actually grabbed my shirt collar to check my neck for hickeys yesterday. Luckily for me,” he adds with a grin, “the only marks you put on me were much lower.”

Kit’s mouth quirks in another one of those half-hidden smiles Ming loves so much. “Shut up,” he mutters. “You loved it.”

“I did,” Ming agrees fervently. “But I must wear a really foolish smile when I think about it, because Yo keeps asking what happy pills I’m on. I can’t exactly explain that I’m on a steady diet of KitKat now.”

Kit, damn him, licks his spoon a few more times before replying. Ming silently reminds his dick that it just got a skilled and enthusiastic handjob ten minutes ago and has no cause to be yearning for more. 

“Yo knows you’ve been pursuing me,” Kit says at last. “He just doesn’t know you’ve caught me. Right?”

“Right. The only one who knows that is Forth.” Ming had filled Kit in on Forth’s role as confidant; Kit wasn't thrilled but had to concede that Forth can be trusted. The hotheaded engineer can be surprisingly gallant.

“Um.” Kit bites his lip. “So does Beam,” he admits.

“What? Seriously?”

“Yeah. When I talked to him like I promised you, he admitted that he saw us kissing that day. And then he heard just enough of our conversation about Moowarn to conclude that you’re a two-timing bastard trying to keep me as your dirty mistress.”

Ming snorts. “If anything, I’m your dirty mistress.”

There’s an awkward pause during which Kit turns beet red and Ming’s dick informs him that it, for one, is enthusiastically on board for dirty-mistress roleplay. 

Anyway ,” Kit continues after gulping some ice water, “I set him straight and he’s sworn to silence for now. But he may not be able to look you in the eye for awhile.”

“Why not? If he’d already figured out we were sleeping together?”

Kit drains the rest of the ice water and rattles the ice in the glass. “Um. He might’ me with some jokes and inappropriate questions, and I…”

“...told him to go to hell?” Ming prompts hopefully.

“ pissed off that he just assumed I was the bottom,” Kit admits. “And we had words.”


“Yeah. Words like ‘fuck you, Beam, he rode my dick like a rodeo star just last night.’”

Now it’s Ming’s turn to turn red, and he doesn’t even have ice water. “Those are words, all right.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, Ming. You know what a filthy mouth I have when I’m angry. It just slipped out.”

“That’s what he said,” Ming mutters faintly. 

“If it’s any consolation, I also told him you have an enormous dick and know how to use it.” 

Ming seizes Kit’s water glass and stuffs one of the ice cubes into his mouth. After an instant’s reflection he stuffs another one into Kit’s mouth for good measure.

When they’re done crunching, Ming fixes Kit with a stern glare.

“I’m telling Yo,” he says. “In confidence, and without mentioning anything about dick size or sexual positions. He’s my best friend and I don’t feel right keeping him in the dark anymore.”

“OK,” Kit agrees almost meekly. “That’s fair.”

“Meanwhile, I’m going to back up and keep my distance so you can focus on acing your exams.”

“Oh? Oh. Well, fine then. I don’t care anyway.” Kit’s mouth is only a little sulky as he makes a show of shuffling through his notes and worksheets. “I’m here to get an education, after all, not roll around in bed with a giant.”  

“But when you’re done?” Ming leans close to wipe an errant dab of frosting from Kit’s cheek with a forefinger. “After your last exam? I’m taking you out somewhere to celebrate. To the cinema, maybe. So I can hold your hand.”

“Like I’d let you.” 

“Oh, you’ll let me.” Ming licks the frosting off his finger, doing his best to imitate Kit’s own tongue-lapping technique. “Because I’m your dirty mistress, and you love me.”

“In your dreams,” Kit grumbles. But his secret little smile is back, and he pops another piece of ice into his mouth before opening his textbook again.

Ming sighs contentedly. You do love me, Kitty-chan. And someday soon I’ll hear you say it.



“You what? For how long? I can’t possibly have heard you right.”


“Because I swear I just heard you say you’ve been fucking Kit for fucking weeks without telling your fucking best friend in the fucking world!

“Stop hitting me every time you say fucking!"

"Then stop being a shitty-ass lying excuse for a fucking friend!"

"Come on, Yo. You didn’t tell me about you and Pha either. I had to hear it from him.”

“That was the day after we became a couple, Ming. One. Day. And only because you happened to see Pha that morning before you saw me. Also? We didn’t have sex.”

“Look, I really am sorry. But Kit was so freaked out about the idea of anyone knowing, especially at first. He would’ve cut and run—he almost did after the first time anyway.”

“How about after the hundredth time? Did you consider telling me then?”

“Do you think you might be exaggerating just a tiny bit here, bro? We haven’t done it a hundred times. Just…um…”

“How many?”

“Let me think a minute, OK?”

“Seriously? So not a hundred, but plenty enough to lose count?”

“Well, I didn’t know anyone would be asking me for a tally! And aren’t you being kind of a hypocrite here? At the beach resort you said, and I quote, ‘What does it have to do with me? That's your business, not mine.’ And just went on mooning over Pha again."

“Don’t try to shift the blame to me, Ming!”

“I’m not, and I’ve told you already that I’m sorry. But if I’m going to admit I should’ve confided in you, you should admit that you’ve put our friendship on the back burner ever since we moved into our college dorms. Ever since you laid eyes on Pha again, he’s been all you can think about. And I—damn it, Yo, I’ve needed you. I needed my best friend.”

“For what? To brag that while I was pining, you were getting laid nonstop?”

“No, I—no! To tell you that I was scared, OK? And really fucking confused.”

“Scared? You? Of banging someone? Give me a fucking break.”

“Yes, goddammit, scared! Is that a big joke to you, that the playboy could get scared? I’ve been feeling things I’ve never felt before, Yo—and for a man. A man who spends half his time insulting or ignoring me and the other half ruining me for anyone else, and—and zero time admitting he actually cares about me.”

“Shit, Ming."


"Are you OK?"

"I will be. It's been a rough ride, but I think Kitty and I finally agree that we both really want this. And that it's serious."

"Ming, I'm sorry. Truly. I just didn’t know, all right? I honestly thought it was just a whim or a crush, because Kit is so much fun to tease and he plays so hard to get. I really had no idea it was real for you.”

“It was a whim at first. God, I just grabbed him and kissed the breath out of him when we hadn’t even spoken. But even then it was more somehow, you know? Not that we were ready to confess to that, especially Kit.”

“And now?”

“Oh god, Yo, I love him so much. I don’t know if it’s like you and Pha—you two are so pure and sweet that the love just shines out of you. But I love my Kitty like nobody else. And I'm really, really sorry I hid it from you.

“Ming in love. After all those girls. Who would’ve believed it?”

“I know, right? And now we can talk about boys.”

“Next you’ll want to have a pajama party and braid each other’s hair.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad. I mean, not the hair braiding. But a sleepover? We used to do that all the time, remember? You'd show me your latest photos of Pha, and we'd watch a movie where you compared the hero to Pha, and then we'd drink and you'd toast to Pha, and we'd have snacks you chose because you saw Pha eating them once—"

“Oh, shut up. I wasn't that bad."

"You were. You really were."

"Shut up, lying liar who lies. But I'm up for a sleepover if you are. Our doctor boyfriends aren’t going to miss us until exams are over anyway.”

“Mine’s not even ready to admit he’s my boyfriend. But just between you and me? He totally is.”

“You go fetch your pajamas and some drinks. I’ll order takeout and cue up a movie. Maybe a rom com?”

“Oh, hey, there’s a BL series I was watching the other day…”

Chapter Text

so i’m adopting the puppy

I always thought you were more of a
cat person.

haha very funny

it’s impossible not to love him pin
so i give up
i love him

oh god i actually do love him

oh shit 

Oh, Kit, I’m so happy for you! Have you
told him that?

of course not, this is still me we’re 
talking about here

check back in a year or two



“So I have questions,” Yo says.

Ming gives him a smiling sidelong glance, thinking that Yo really is the cutest softest boy. Two hours into their pajama party, replete on takeout noodles and improvised cocktails, Yo has subsided onto his bed in a decadent nest of pillows, plushies, and a fleece throw blanket in the shape of a smiling pink rabbit. Yo’s pajamas are pink too, as are his cheeks. Ming has missed this, just talking and laughing with his best friend and shutting out the rest of the world. 

“About me and Kit?” he asks.

“Mm.” Yo nibbles delicately at his lower lip, hesitating. “Sort of?”

Ming flops down on the adjacent pillow, turning Yo’s way so they’re nearly nose to nose. “Spill it, Yo. You know you can ask me anything.”

“I always have,” Yo says, “but I don’t know where the boundaries are now that we’re both in serious relationships. Is P’Kit going to be upset if you talk to me about your sex life?”

Ming snorts. “Kitty’s got no grounds to complain. He told Beam that I rode his dick like a cowboy.”

Yo’s eyes go wide and startled. “You did?”

“A time or two, yeah. Why? Is that what you wanted to ask about?”

“Yeah.” Yo rolls onto his back to stare at the ceiling, clutching a fuzzy lavender throw pillow to his chest. “I know P’Pha wants to have sex,” he says, “and it’s not that I don’t want to—I do! Of course I do. But it feels like there’s so much pressure to make it absolutely perfect, you know? Like we can’t just fool around and fumble our way through it by trial and error like regular couples, it’s all got to be meaningful and romantic because he’s the love of my life and I’ve wanted him for literal years .” Clutching the pillow closer, he mumbles something into it that Ming can’t quite decipher.

Ming tugs the pillow away from his face. “What did you say?”

Yo closes his eyes, his face now more red than pink. “I said, how can our first time be perfect when I don’t even know how the hell it’s supposed to fit ?”

I’m not going to laugh, Ming swears to himself, biting the inside of his lip to suppress a snicker. The question might be funny but Yo’s anxiety is real.

“It’ll fit, I promise you,” Ming says in what he hopes is a soothing tone. “Look, I’m not going to quiz you about P’Pha’s dick size, know I’m above average, right? And P’Kitty is really petite, smaller than you. But with the right preparation we fit just fine—and the preparation can be fun in itself, believe me. Haven’t you looked any of this up online?”

“I’ve watched some gay porn,” Yo admits, “but porn stars are paid to act like it feels good, even when they’re riding a dildo the size of a horse dong.”

This time the snicker escapes. “Shit, what kind of porn are you watching, Yo? ‘Hung like a horse’ is just an expression! I’m pretty sure P’Pha is within the range of normal human proportions.”

Yo rolls over to look at Ming again, his expression uncertain. “You’ve really done it, though? Let P’Kit top you? And you like it?”

Ming is silent for a moment, trying to balance Yo’s anxious craving for information and reassurance with P’Kit’s privacy. “I love it,” he admits finally. “Most of the time P’Kit and I prefer it the other way around, but when the mood is right—yeah, I do. I love it.” He’s the one staring at the ceiling now, struggling to find the right words. “It’s so intimate. More than anything else, at least for me. Taking him into my body that way, watching his face as he starts to move in me—lose himself in me—oh god, Yo, it’s amazing.”

“You really do love him,” Yo says softly.

“Heart and soul.” Ming lets out his breath in a heated sigh, then laughs at himself. “Damn, all those beautiful girls I dated, and it turns out my true love is a mean little man who swears like a sailor!”

“I still can’t believe you were having sex with him all this time and I never had a clue. P’Pha still doesn’t,” Yo adds. “I was going to tell him, but it’s kind of funny watching him be oblivious when the rest of us are smirking at you two.”

“Ha!” Ming snorts. “We should start a betting pool with P’Forth, P’Beam, and P’Kit on when he’ll figure it out.”

“We totally should!”

Two more cocktails later, they do.