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Hands, Touching Prans...

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Pat wants to touch Pran. He wants to run his hands over Pran, to tangle his fingers in Pran’s silky hair, to kiss him until they are both breathless. But he doesn’t. Because Pran is still hesitant. Pat allows Pran to initiate contact, to choose how far they go, to withdraw when it gets too much.

But he desperately wants Pran to touch him.

So he makes excuses.

Pat knows that Pran feels the same way, wants to touch him as much as Pat wants to touch Pran. He knows every time Pran catches his hand, a quick peck every time his emotions boil over and he can’t help himself. Pat doesn’t know why Pran is still so hesitant though, why it takes excuses to let them be romantic. It’s not like Pran is shy, his flirting during their bet phase certainly dismissed Pat of that notion. But still, he pulls away more often than not.

But Pat can never get enough of touching Pran. Maybe he’s just clingy.

After the rough game, where he gave up his dignity to see the team win, conceding to Wai even though he was hurting Pran, he desperately wants the validation of physical touch from his boyfriend.

When Pran had offered to dry his hair after his post-game shower, he willingly handed over a second towel, savouring the feeling of his boyfriend caring for him. It was sweet, but when he finished, it still wasn’t enough.

“Ow, my shoulder hurts,” he whines, when Pran nudges him to move, “I can’t get up.”

He knows one foolproof way to keep his boyfriend's hands on him, an excuse that Pran will allow himself to concede to.

“I need remedy cream,” he says, and while Pran is incredulous, he reaches over to get the small tube anyway.

“Where does it hurt?” Pran asks, and starts massaging the cream into Pat’s shoulder as indicated.

It feels amazing, Pran’s warm fingers working the cream into the aches of Pat’s muscles. He’s not exaggerating that much, he really did get quite a pounding on the field that afternoon, and his back is crying out from the relief as Pran’s hands move.

As Pran always does, he retreats back to playing, lowering the level of intimacy. Running away. Pat loves messing around with Pran, but he chases what he wants. And honestly, the playing is kind of foreplay for them anyway.

“I want a reward from my boyfriend.”

“What kind of reward?”

Pat glances down at the seat of Pran’s pants, then back up to his face, to his lips, and Pran blushes, knowing what Pat is thinking. He’s smirking though, as Pat gets closer, resisting in word only as Pat corrales him into lying down on the bed, bracketed by Pat’s arms. Pran laughs as he slaps Pat’s chest, and Pat just grins in response. Pat hovers over Pran so that their faces are inches away from each other, one knee between Pran’s legs. Then he waits, allowing Pran to make the next move, Pran, whose hand is resting gently on his arm.

“You’ll be late!” he says, gaze flicking between Pat’s eyes and his lips.

“I don’t mind being late,” Pat replies, noticing the way that Pran’s hand hasn’t moved from his pec. It’s warm, and Pat knows the heat radiating between them has nothing to do with the warm Thai air.

“Come on! Give me a break!” Pran resits, even as the hand on Pat’s shoulder moves to rest on his hip.

Pat doesn’t let up though, just grinning with a mischievous smile, eyes bright as Pran strokes a line down his sternum.

“The boys can wait. I don’t care.”

Pran rolls his eyes, and Pat can see the moment that he decides to give in, eyes locking on Pat’s as he bites his bottom lip.

His lips look so soft, Pat can’t wait to kiss them.

And then Pran is pulling him down by the neck, lifting his head up to meet him in a kiss. It’s soft and inviting, and far too gentle for the heat in his eyes when they separate a second later.

While Pat loves Pran straining his neck so they can kiss, showing his eagerness, he also doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable. With the next kiss, he shifts his weight, moving to rest on his elbows, marvelling at the way Pran pulls their hips closer together. Pran’s hand is grazing up and down Pat’s back, sending goosebumps along his skin, and Pat gasps almost inaudibly. Pran uses the gasp to deepen their kiss, lips parting and gliding against Pat’s. Pran licks into his mouth, and suddenly all of Pat’s senses condense to the taste of Pran, the sweet scent of his skin, the soft trace of his fingertips.

Pran is wearing too much. Pat is just in his boxers and a towel, whereas Pran is still fully clothed, and that is something that Pat has to change. With one hand he reaches down, tugging at the hem of Pran’s shirt that is wedged between the two of them. Pran gets the memo, laughing into Pat’s mouth as he releases his grasp on his hips, allowing Pat to pull the shirt up and over his head. Once Pran is shirtless, Pat takes a second to sit up and admire his boyfriend. Pran just scrunches his nose at Pat's adoring regard as Pat’s eyes rake over the flushed skin, subtle abdominal muscles, cute belly button. Pat catches Pran’s gaze, winking before Pran rolls his eyes and pulls Pat down again.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Pat whispers, nudging Pran’s nose with his own, before capturing Pran’s lips in a kiss. Pran shows his appreciation of the words by running his hands through Pat’s freshly dried hair, tugging it slightly, drawing Pat flush against his bare chest. Pat feels like he is on fire, and can’t help it as he cants his hips into Pran’s. Pran groans at the friction, a delicious sound that courses through Pat and that he swallows eagerly. He releases Pran’s lips as they softly grind into each other, mouthing down his skin until he reaches the soft juncture between Pran’s jaw and his neck.

Pran’s hands are tracing warm patterns across his back, his hips, and his towel has come so loose at one point he pauses to pull it off entirely. He returns quickly to the reddening spot on Pran’s neck, alternating between simply pressing wet kisses and sucking the skin between his teeth.

Pran’s soft sighs urge him on, so does the hardness that he can feel growing between their layers. Pat drags his fingers through Pran's hair, savouring the silkyness, and Pran melts under his touch. Pat kisses across his throat, taking his time when he reaches Pran's Adam's apple, grazing his teeth on the protrusion, before swapping to give attention to the other side of Pran's neck, using the hand in his hair to manoeuvre his boyfriend.

Pran is breathing his name like a prayer as Pat worships Pran's slender neck with his mouth. Their hips are bucking against each other more desperately now, and Pat is starting to feel jittery with arousal, his erection straining against his boxers. Prank is gripping his shoulders, and by the bite of his nails Pat knows he will leave marks. Pat is barely paying attention to what he's doing with his mouth anymore, chasing the sensation of grinding against Pran's clothed dick. Pran is apparently more coherent than Pat though, vibrations making Pat's lips tingle as he speaks.

"Pat, Pat, kiss me," he breathes, voice husky with arousal and want. Not one to deprive Pran of anything, Pat lifts his head to meet Pran's mouth in a sloppy kiss. Their teeth clack and they both laugh, before Pran sucks Pat's bottom lip between his teeth and Pat sees stars.

He wants to touch Pran. They haven't gone that far before, not much more than right now, and Pat thinks that Pran is allowing it because they have a time limit. He inches a hand down Pran's smooth chest nonetheless, reaching the band of Pran's pants before pulling his mouth from Pran's for a second.

"Is this okay?" he asks, watching as Pran's eyes flutter open, hazy for a second before catching Pat's gaze.

Prank nods, a small smile gracing his face before Pat grins in response and leans back in, kissing his boyfriend with passion.

His fingers nudge past the elastic of Pran's boxers, and Pat can barely contain himself in anticipation when a loud knock sounds through the apartment.

“You have got to be kidding me!" Pat groans, pressing his forehead against his boyfriend's as Pran releases a dry chuckle.

He pulls his hand out of Pran's underwear with a sigh, and Pran giggles, bucking his erection into Pat.

"And you were so close too. Better get the door."

Pat doesn't move, keeping his hand resting on Pran's waistband, and ducking in for another kiss.

"We can just leave him out there. I can't leave you like this. That would be rude."

The knock sounds again, followed by Korn's loud voice calling out.

"Pat, get out here you bastard, you're late."

"I can deal with this myself," says Pran, and Pat almost blacks out at the image, "you should be more worried about the condition you're in."

Like Pat needs to be reminded of his raging erection.

"Go let in your friend."

"You're the worst," teases Pat, stealing Pran's breath with a bruising kiss, before he rolls off Pran as another knock resounds.

He snags the towel on the floor, tying it around his waist in a way he hopes hides the tent, and exits the bedroom to let in his friend.

When he opens the door, he must look like someone caught in the middle of making out, because Korn catches one glimpse before bursting out in laughter.

"Oh, I see why you are late now," he says, when he's finally caught his breath.

"Don't say anything," growls Pat, letting in his friend and going back to the bedroom to put on some clothes.

Pran is still on the bed when they go in, but his shirt is back on, and he looks to be nonchalantly scrolling on his phone.

Korn laughs again at the sight of Pran on his bed, hair mussed up and quite obviously kiss bruised lips. Pran just sends him a wry glance before rolling off the bed to head to the kitchen. He catches Pat on the way out the door with a kiss to the cheek, and they both ignore Korn's whoop.

"You can bone your boyfriend later, now is for the boys," calls the interloper, and Pat has to hold in the response that he is trying to get into his boyfriend's pants, and would have if it weren't for Korn.

He doesn't though, showing remarkable restraint.

Pran wanders in again when he's fully dressed, telling him not to drink and drive, and when Korn gives them space he leans in closer.

"We'll continue this later," he breathes into Pat's ear, sending shivers down Pat's spine, and a jolt directly to his dick.

Pran is a cruel cruel man.

He kisses him goodbye, and Pat has no clue how he is going to pay attention to his friends that evening.

But at least he knows Pran will also be preoccupied with thoughts of Pat that night, and he can still feel the warm glow of his boyfriend's touch.

Chapter Text

Pran’s boyfriend is unfairly attractive. It would make sense if it were just his body, because Pat is ripped and seeing him without his shirt should be censored or something. It shouldn’t be legal for him to just walk around, shirtless, and induce heart palpitations in every red-blooded human in his presence. Even when Pran was putting as much effort into rugby as Pat, he was never able to attain the muscles that seem to be effortless for his boyfriend.

But no, it wasn’t his pecs that made Pat so unfairly hot. It was how much he cared.

Every soft touch, the gentleness his boyfriend could inhabit. The way he looks at Pran adoringly, and the way that he lets Pran control their speed.

Every time he calls Pran babe with that dopey little smile, or his ridiculous antics both in public or private, making Pran grin even when he doesn’t want to.

Even his weird thing with smelling Pran was hot, because it showed Pran how much Pat loved him, wanted to be close to him.

God he is so attracted to his boyfriend.

And that really shouldn’t be a surprise, but sometimes it still takes him a second to remind himself that he is allowed to be attracted to Pat.

Now that they are dating, now that they are no longer hiding, now that Pat willingly throws himself at Pran. The way that Pat is obviously also incredibly attracted to Pran, which makes no sense whatsoever.

So yes, he is allowed to be attracted to Pat. He is allowed to look at Pat and want to touch the lines of his abs, allowed to want to trace his cheekbones and nose, allowed to want to kiss every square inch of his adorable face.

He is also allowed to want to make Pat feel good, to want to know what it feels like to take Pat into his hand. He is allowed to want to see Pat with his dick in his mouth. Which is not something they have talked about before, but something that they are very rapidly edging into every heated makeout session on Pran’s bed. Something that Pran thinks about when he wakes up with Pat’s arms embracing him, feeling his boyfriend’s morning wood against his back.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. Even as he eases up, slowing their pace, returning to soft kisses and catching his breath. He does desperately want to bring things to the next level with his boyfriend, he just doesn’t quite know if he is there yet. And yeah, maybe he’s a little nervous because he hasn’t really done this before, and Pat is well. Pat is Pat. Even if Pat hasn’t done anything before, he is still confident and eager and will put his all in.

Which is also an incredibly hot thought.

Pran is just used to having to be perfect, and sex is anything but perfect.

And Pat is helping him work through those insecurities, helping him to see success out of failure, and helping him see that living isn’t just about being perfect. And mediocre isn’t actually something that is mediocre, because you can’t judge living on a scale from perfect to failure.

One step at a time, that’s what he needs. And Pran isn’t sure if when he starts he can just stop at one step.

Because his boyfriend is unfairly attractive and makes Pran very very turned on.

>.<

Their earlier interrupted makeout session is still fresh in his mind, even after a shower and relieving some of the *cough* pressure. (Yes he wanked, no he doesn’t want to talk about it).

As Pran putters around making something for dinner, his apartment seems empty without Pat’s presence. Pat is having some well deserved hanging time with his friends, especially after their earlier win, but it doesn’t stop Pran from missing him.

He puts on some crappy netflix show to distract himself, setting himself up in bed with his laptop, surfing on his phone at the same time. Nothing seems to draw him in, and he contemplates trying to do some work on an assignment before dismissing the thought. Instead he picks up his phone, thumbing to his recent chat messages with his boyfriend, and convinces himself he isn’t needy if he sends Pat a message.

How’s the night going?

He doesn’t receive a reply for several minutes, and they are several long minutes of watching a bad martial art film with terrible fight choreography.

When his phone lights up, he immediately unlocks it and looks at the message Pat had sent.

Would be better if you were here
The boys are asking about our sex life
I really need to stop being the only taken person in our group

Pran laughs, even as he flushes with embarrassment. According to Pat, Korn has been particularly invested, and Pran is glad that his friends are accepting of their relationship, but there really should be boundaries.

Well you should hurry home to give them something to talk about

And yes, he really did send that. He throws the phone onto the bed beside him.

He can almost see Pat’s reaction, the boy reddening at the insinuation, the bumbled excuses that he needs to go home right now, the eagerness he must feel.

OMW

The next twenty minutes are tortuous. The anxiety sets in almost instantly, as well as the anticipation.

One step at a time.

He turns the movie back on, trying to get invested in the plotline about someone’s lost honour or something with a plethora of fake blood bursting in improbable manners. Before long, he hears the key turning in the lock and Pat letting himself into the apartment. Pran is leaning off the bed to put the computer away as Pat barges into the bedroom, and when he looks up he sees a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Eager?” Pran smirks as Pat stalks towards him.

“Says Mr. ‘Hurry Home’,” Pat retorts, crowding Pran on the bed with a self satisfied smile.

Pran really can’t refute, and he doesn’t really want to when the scent and weight of his boyfriend is so near. Pat seems to have the same thought, ducking down to sniff the crook of Pran’s neck before dropping a kiss there.

“Pat!” Pran half whines, half laughs, as he smacks his boyfriend’s face away. Pat is on his hands and knees on the bed, still not touching Pran, but thoroughly encaging him. Pran has worked himself up too much, and he needs to take action.

Gripping the wrists that are by his head, Pran flips them over in an awkward scuffle, ultimately ending up with Pat’s hands pinned near the headboard, knees on either side of Pat’s waist.

“What can I say, I would have thought you wanted to spend some time with your friends after that big win.”

Pat grins up at Pran, obviously pleased at the position he has found himself in.

“Well, I am being rewarded with a better prize here.”

It’s a direct reference to their earlier conversation, and Pran is suddenly very eager to reward his athlete boyfriend.

After some teasing of course.

He leans in, one hand beside Pat’s face, the other still gripping his wrists, and stops just before pressing their lips together.

“I hope you didn’t have too much to drink tonight, otherwise your prize might not be satisfying,” he whispers, breath ghosting over Pat’s mouth.

Pat whines in response, trying to lift his head to catch Pran’s lips, but Pran retreats quickly.

“I only had two beers. I’m almost sober.”

“Oh? Completely coherent then.”

Pat nods vigorously, and Pran smirks in response.

“Hmm, I was hoping you wouldn’t be completely coherent at this point,” Pran says, before sitting down suddenly onto Pat’s crotch.

Pat’s eyes widen in response, and he bites his lip, still maintaining eye contact with Pran, who just winks.

It’s like how they were during the bet, Pran trying to seduce Pat into confessing, and it gives him a bit of a high being able to affect Pat the way he does.

He grinds down for a second, before lifting his weight back onto his knees.

“And what did you want your prize to be then?” Pran asks, and he can see Pat having to blink a couple of times to respond.

“A kiss?” Pat asks somewhat hesitantly, big eyes looking up at Pran, and he purses his lips, a question in his gaze.

A kiss. Pran can work with that.

He nods slowly, but rather than coming down to kiss his boyfriend, he brings his free hand down to the edge of Pat’s shirt. Slowly, he edges the fabric up to reveal a steep V-line and relaxed muscles. Pat is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in a way that is somewhat mesmerising. When Pat’s shirt is rucked up to almost his armpits, Pran bends down, careful not to release his grip on Pat’s wrists, before pressing a delicate kiss to just above Pat’s belly button.

He sees the sudden intake of breath almost as much as he hears it, and he knows that Pat is probably very surprised. This isn’t normally how Pran acts in these situations, but he’s taking a step.

Gently, Pran kisses his way in a line up Pat’s chest, until he hits the soft fabric of the shirt. With that, he releases Pat’s hands, using both to pull the shirt up and over his boyfriend’s head. Pat complies, and when the shirt is off and thrown on the floor, he rests back down into his previous position, hands back above his head without any direction from Pran.

Pran returns to the spot where he had stopped at Pat’s sternum, and kisses up his neck, his chin, before finally reaching Pat’s mouth. He presses a soft, sweet, kiss to Pat’s lips, and sighs alongside Pat.

“Took your time,” murmured Pat, their lips still touching so Pran felt the vibrations more than heard the words.

“Mmm, but isn’t the wait worth it?” Pran responds, and they both seem to be talking about something that isn’t quite the kiss.

“Definitely,” comes the breathy response, and Pran kisses Pat again.

When he next breaks away, Pat nudges his chin back.

“Can I move my hands yet?”

Pran had almost forgotten about that, and he smiles and nods.

“If you know how to use them.”

Pat seems to take the obvious jab and moves his hands down quickly to rest on Pran’s hips.

“I’m all too happy to prove myself,” he says, before winding his hands beneath Pran’s shirt and feathering up his chest.

The soft touch sends shivers along Pran’s skin, and he kisses Pat before his next retort.

“Prove it then.”

With his challenge, Pat surges up to catch Pran’s lips in an urgent kiss, distracting Pran when he drags up Pran’s shirt until he too is almost shirtless. Pran lets Pat pull the clothing over his head, the chill of air on his bare skin immediately chased away by Pat’s big, warm hands.

“Before we keep going, how far do you want to go tonight?” Pat asks, hands still on Prans waist, gazing up at Pran with heated eyes that betray a little caution.

Pran isn’t sure, but he is struck by the forthrightness of Pat. Not that he should be surprised, his boyfriend is pretty good with communication when he wants to be.

They should definitely talk about it, because while both he and Pat are obviously very turned on at the moment, it’s probably best to be clear.

They’ve already kind of talked about previous relationships, and while Pat had fooled around once or twice with some girls, they had never gotten very far. And Pran himself had only one boyfriend under his belt in highschool, and was extremely repressed during that whole relationship.

Which put them at roughly the same level of experience when it came to the whole sex thing.

Pran wanted to continue the confidence that he had earlier, but he knows it’s better to be honest.

He dips down, caressing Pat’s lips softly with his own, rubbing their noses together, before sitting back up.

“I don’t know - not all the way? Further than making out?”

“Okay, how about I throw some suggestions out, and if you’re not comfortable with them we can work out what is on the table?”

On the table sounds good. Something to prepare for, but not a checklist of things to do that night.

Pran nods, and Pat smiles. He brings a hand up to brush Pran’s fringe out of his face, cupping his cheek.

“Hey, I love you, and I know we’re not rushing anything.”

It’s gentle, and Pran is so very comfortable with this man, so sure in the feelings they share, he feels like he could start crying. Which is an utter boner killer, so he does not do that.

“Alright big boy, hit me with your list.”

Pat laughs as Pran intended, and his thumb starts rubbing soft circles into the flesh of Pran's waist.

“So we are solid on the making out front.”

Pran rolls his eyes.

“Obviously.”

“And uh, grinding is okay.”

Pran will not blush. He nods.

“So, getting naked? I kinda would like to see you-” his eyes rove down Pran’s body, “-at some point.”

Pat’s gaze feels like a laser. Naked. Yes. That sounds very agreeable to Pran’s ears.

“Touching? Further than the waist?” he punctuates his question with a soft squeeze at Pran’s hip.

“This all sounds good so far…” Pran says to a Pat that gives him a gorgeous smile. Pran can’t help but smile back, and Pat pokes him in a dimple.

He’s feeling a little flushed at this point, heat running up chest. Who knew communication could be so sexy.

“Hand job? I don’t know how good I’ll be but…” Pat trails off, raising his eyebrows at Pran.

Yep. Yep. Also good. Pat’s hand on his dick, yep that sounds very good.

“Blowjob?” This one gives Pran a little pause. Because theoretically, it sounds amazing, but realistically, he can see how messy and unsatisfying it could end up being, for both of them.

Pat sees the look on Pran’s face, because he bites his lip and nods. “Alright, we can work our way up to that one later then. It sounds like we have a full agenda tonight anyway.”

Pran can’t help but laugh.

“Agenda? Our sex life has an agenda now?”

“Oh?” Pat cocks his head at Pran, “Mr. Parakul, I’m merely highlighting how serious I am taking my endeavours to pleasure you.”

Pran swats Pat lightly on the shoulder, as an effort to hide the heat that is burning his cheeks.

“As long as you are serious, you may as well get back to business.”

“My pleasure.”

Pat and Pran meet somewhere in the middle, crashing into each other with an eagerness that is exhilarating. Pat pulls him down with him, and Pran is flush against his chest, hands in Pat’s hair, eyes closed and mouth open.

Pat’s own hands are running fiery patches up and down Pran’s back, and Pran wants to arch into the feeling and never stop being pressed tight against Pat.

They make out in the sloppy way that is as much about giving as taking, and Pran can taste the beer in Pat’s mouth as he runs his tongue over his boyfriends’. He swallows every sigh, shifting his head to get a better angle, lips sliding over lips. At one point Pat sucks Pran’s bottom lip between his teeth, nipping it softly, and Pran sees stars. He pulls on Pat’s hair gently, other fingers running down to grasp the back of his neck, and Pat’s responding gasp is beautiful.

Pran is feeling heady with endorphins just from making out, and when Pat’s touch edges down from the small of his back, to Pran’s still clothed hip, to the swell of his arse, he bucks his hips into Pat’s unconsciously.

Pat breathes a laugh into their kiss, and Pran just nips at his lips in response before kissing down Pat’s neck and sucking on the soft flesh at the junction of his chin. He bites the skin gently, and then harder when Pat groans, hand on his arse running circles over the fabric. Pat is gently pulling Pran’s hips towards his own, a rhythm that they’re starting to grind to, as Pran concentrates on marking Pat’s neck. Each suck and wet kiss is met with a corresponding breathy sigh, and Pran is not surprised by how vocal his boyfriend is. His hands have found their way to Pat’s sides, and he runs them up and down his ribs, letting his nails lightly scratch up the sensitive skin.

Each meeting of their hips is bringing delicious friction to his erection, and he can feel Pat’s similar hard-on beneath the layers separating them. When Pat’s fingers start tracing along the waistband of his pants, dipping beneath them and along his back and then up again, Pran noses his way up Pat’s neck again to meet his lips in a kiss.

“Yeah,” he breathes against his boyfriend’s lips in answer to the unvoiced question, and Pran can feel Pat’s smile. They stay kissing for as long as possible while Pat uses his excellent hands to pull down Pran’s jeans, and then it’s a scramble as they part and Pran tries to fling them off his legs. He almost falls off the bed in his fervour, pant leg catching on his feet, and Pat is giggling as he pulls him back, flipping them over before shucking his own shorts, which are a little more manageable. Pran makes a strangled noise when they’re both back on the bed, the sight of Pat’s erection straining through his boxers almost enough to make Pran come undone right there.

Pat doesn’t give him the chance though, rolling them over until his weight is pressed down on Pran, thigh in between Pran’s. Pran is breathless with the pressure, and kisses Pat with a force that almost surprises him, hands tangling in Pat’s hair and pulling him closer still. Pat obliges, allowing them to be drawn entirely flush, and Pran is warm everywhere he can feel Pat’s skin - his chest, torso, thighs, legs tangled together.

Pat allows them to acclimate to the new position, making out and losing themselves in the caress of so much naked skin. Not too much later his hand is exploring again, one track mind that seems set on Pran’s dick, to which he is not complaining. When Pat’s fingers edge past the band of his briefs, tangling in the coarse hair that leads down to Pran’s cock, he pauses, and Pran again affirms his boyfriend by arching up and rutting into him.

“Yes, please,” he keens, separating from the kiss and resting his forehead against Pat’s. He opens his eyes to see Pat gazing at him with heat and adoration, and Pran feels a swell of love and comfort as his boyfriend palms his cock for the first time.

For all that he has jerked himself off, he didn’t expect it to feel that weird, but Pat’s warm hand on him is a strange sensation, but absolutely intoxicating, and if he wasn’t hard beforehand, his lightheadedness is telling him where all of his blood is raging. Pat’s palm is hot, and his long fingers are slightly scratchy as his hand gently closes around Pran. Pran can tell Pat is savouring the new feeling as well, and can’t help but rock into his hand. The friction leaves him breathless, and he nuzzles Pat’s nose.

“You’ve got my dick in your hand. Are you going to do anything about it?”

Pat chuckles and knocks their noses together again.

“Baby, I have absolutely no clue.”

That has Pran choking out a laugh, and he is so incredibly aroused that he can’t do much more than whisper back into Pat’s skin.

“Let me help then.”

With that he rocks into Pat’s hand again, and Pat finally, finally, starts to move. He pulls his hand up the shaft, and down again, almost agonisingly slowly, rearranging them as he tries to find a good angle. He speeds up with the movement before Pran can beg him too, but when his wrist hits the waistband of Pran’s briefs for the fourth time, he groans a little in annoyance.

“Babe, can I take these off as well?”

Pran’s heart stutters for a second, but he nods vigorously, eager to get rid of the pesky garment and chase the impending high.

With the second of respite, he drags open the draw in the bedside stand, and produces a bottle of lube which Pat smirks at.

“Someone’s prepared - not even moisturiser.”

“Have we met?” is all Pran can respond with, before passing the bottle to Pat’s grabby hand. He reclines back onto the bed, suddenly conscious that he is entirely naked for the first time in front of his boyfriend, and from the look on Pat’s face, he likes what he sees.

Pat clicks open the lid and squeezes some of the clear gel onto his hand, and then rakes his eyes along Pran’s body, taking his time cataloguing every nook and cranny of Pran’s torso, down to his straining erect dick, his thighs.

“You, Pran, should be illegal. I think I’m going to combust here on the spot.”

The scorching look in Pat’s eyes should also be illegal, and Pran feels like he is going to combust if he keeps looking at him like that. He voices the thought, reaching out and running a hand along Pat’s bare thigh.

“It should be illegal to make me lie here while you are looking at me like that.”

Pat throws the tube of lube to the side, and crowds closer to Pran on the bed, capturing his lips in a kiss. He lays beside Pran, elbow supporting his weight as he moves their mouths together, and Pran’s mouth drops open at the sudden cold of Pat’s lubed hand on his dick. Pat takes advantage, tongue licking into Pran’s mouth, massaging their tongues together as he starts to pull his grasp up and down Pran’s shaft.

It felt good before, but the slick addition of the lube is even better. His abdominal muscles are starting to tense as a hazy feeling floats through his body. Pat’s hand doesn’t stop moving, quickening in pace, occasionally twisting his fist lightly and Pran can’t help but rut into his hand at the same time, hips almost lifting entirely off the mattress. Pat is licking into Pran’s mouth with a reckless abandon, contrasting with the controlled way his hand is jerking off his dick and the juxtaposition is a little too much.

Pat twists his fist again, and Pran can feel the tensing, a spring winding in his lower abdomen coiling so tight he knows his orgasm is imminent. The sensations, Pat’s mouth on his, hand rolling over sensitive skin, the heady feeling of love, it’s all too much.

“Pat, Pat, Pat,” he rasps against his boyfriend’s mouth, “I’m close, I’m -”

And then release, he moans as a splintering static rides through him, cumming all over Pat’s hand, the mattress beneath them. Pat pumps him a couple more times, riding him through the orgasm, kissing him more gently as Pran almost shakes with oversensitivity.

Pran can’t help but drop his head back on the pillow - he hadn’t noticed he was straining up into Pat’s kiss, and he feels a little floaty after one of the best orgasms of his life. Pat languidly kisses him a couple more times before backing up, gaze tracing Pran’s blissed out body and the mess of his orgasm.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he whispers, leaving Pran alone on the bed for a moment before emerging from the bathroom with a damp cloth.

He wipes his hand first, then Pran’s limp dick, taking time scrubbing along his inner thighs, gentle circles, cleaning Pran until Pran feels fresh again.

When he returns the washcloth to the bathroom, Pran reaches out for him, pulling his boyfriend in for a sloppy kiss and nosing his cheek.

“That was amazing,” he murmurs into Pat’s cheek, “not bad for the first time.”

Pat takes the praise admirably, whispering nonsense into Pran’s ear and he brushes Pran’s face clear of his sweaty fringe.

Pran pulls Pat’s chin towards him, taking possession of his lips again, kissing him with all the emotion of a post orgasm, sweetly and all consuming, feathering tongues and soft teeth.

Pran doesn’t know how long they spend like that, softly making out while he runs his hands up and down Pat’s wide back. He comes back to the present gradually, and notices what he should have been noticing for a while, mainly the pressure of Pat’s hard-on digging in slightly. He hadn’t forgotten entirely, but now Pran was all consumed with the need to make Pat feel as good as Pat had made him feel.

It’s a bit exciting really.

He languidly kisses Pat, and then threads a hand into his hair, softly pulling Pat’s head to the side to gain him access to Pat’s thick neck. There’s a small red patch where he had already started leaving a mark, and he grins as he returns to it, sucking sharply on the skin to draw the blood to the surface.

“Pran babe,” Pat groans when Pran releases, licking the spot and then further up his neck. Pat’s hands caress his sides, and Pran wiggles beneath him, kissing wet spots along his collarbones. He wraps his legs around Pat’s waist, and shifts his weight to roll them over on the bed.

“Back on top eh?” Pat murmurs, laughter in his voice, and Pran looks him in the eye while nodding.

“My turn.” Pat grins, and then his face is out of view as Pran kisses down his chest. When he reaches the V leading down, the band of Pat’s boxers, he pauses and looks back up at Pat. Pat is craning his head so that he can see what Pran is doing, and it’s a little hot. He wiggles his hips, and Pran bites his lip and smiles as he pulls down the boxers, Pat’s erection springing free.

And what a sight.

Pran has seen other people’s penises before, and he has watched his share of porn, but can definitively say, Pat has the best one. It’s not quite as long as his own, but has a girth that is a little intimidating, and Pran is glad that blowjobs are off the table for tonight, because he has no clue how he is meant to tackle that.

It doesn’t stop him from kissing the tip of Pat’s quivering dick and hearing his boyfriend groan almost obscenely loud. It’s soft, and drops of precum wet his lips when he comes up. He looks back up at Pat, licking his lips, and Pat groans again.

“Babe, I am going to come if you do it again.”

That’s an idea.

He looks around on the bed, and sees the discarded lube. Once he has a squirt on his hand, he warms it slowly with his fingers, crawling up the bed so his face is even with Pat’s. He watches Pat’s eyes fall closed as he takes Pat in his hand, swiping his thumb over the tip and then pulling down quickly to the base of his cock. Pat bites his lip to stop the sound that tries to escape, and Pran is quick to duck down and nip his lip too.

“Don’t. I want to hear you,” Pran says, breath fanning on his boyfriend's lips. Pat opens his hazy eyes to look at Pran, and lets his mouth fall open.

Pran isn’t quite sure how to do the whole handjob thing, but he knows what he likes, and can get some direction from Pat if needed. Not that he expects Pat to last very long anyway, with how long he has been on edge.

It’s fun, jerking Pat off, watching his face pince and his body writhe under Pran’s hand. Pat keeps murmuring, begging Pran to go faster. Pran obliges, speeding up his hand and trying to twist his wrist like Pat was doing to give extra friction.

“Come on baby, come for me,” Pran whispers in Pat’s ear, tugging on his boyfriend’s earlobe with his teeth.

Pat’s body is chasing the high, fucking into Pran’s hand, and Pran can see the moment that he comes, loud and enthusiastic. Hot spurts cover his hand, and Pran can be grossed out later, now he just kisses his boyfriend, his boyfriend who he just made oragsm, and it’s hot and messy, and teeth, but fun.

“Never stop touching me,” Pat murmurs into the kiss, and Pran laughs.

“I’ll have to stop in a second to get us cleaned up.”

“After that then. For infinity.”

Pran nuzzles into Pat’s cheek, inhaling the smell of sweat and sex and love.

“For infinity,” he promises.