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Gun's situation all begins because of a very rambunctious night with the other Chinzhilla members, including Tinn.
Win was the one who supplied the alcohol that he stole from his older brother's apartment. It's the really cheap one that tastes like wet crackers with barely enough for everybody, but they make it work, pouring a sip-full into foam cups.
Since moving music rooms down to the basement, it was a lot easier to get away with things like this -- like drinking. No administrator wanted to be down here, with the rat droppings and musty smell. They'd rather trust that the boys would make good decisions, which they never did.
This is the third time they've done this -- held a celebration for every little achievement they have received, -- and for tonight, it was because they had finally been chosen as the final contestants for the Hot Wave Music Contest.
"P'! I need you!" says Por from his spot on the floor, pushing Yo away with the palm of his hand on the other's forehead. "He's not taking one for the team. He's not allowed by me anymore."
Gun raises an eyebrow at them, barely able to hear over the speaker spitting out jaunty music. "What he'd do?"
Por groans as he continues to push the obvious pretending-to-be-drunk Yo, holding himself back from laughing. "He said he wouldn't sacrifice himself to the zombie apocalypse if it meant saving us from being disqualified from Hot Wave."
Yo streams out a hefty laugh from Por's struggle to get him away, "Ai'Por! You know you wouldn't either!"
But had there been a zombie apocalypse, wouldn't the contest be canceled? Seeing as everybody is -- a zombie? But with both of them, you can't get very analytical. So instead, Gun just grins, failing to understand the antics of the two people he called his best friends.
Gun didn't want to move from his spot by Tinn (whose hand managed to find his own without the others seeing) but it'd look sus if he didn't, so he throws himself right in between them, with Yo pulling back So Gun's ass didn't crush his arm. The only thing to do in these kinds of situations is to match their energy -- even if it was idiotic.
"P'Gun! My Hero!" Por wraps his arms around the older, laying his head down on his shoulder.
Gun was constantly being poked and prodded by the members, as boys his age usually did, but their touches never meant anything like Tinn's did -- which was his first thought when he started gaining feelings for the other. And it only got progressively worse the past month that they've been secretly dating, with just a singular hand-hold causing ruptures in Gun's poor heart.
"Anything for you Por," He winks.
Por giggles and coddles his way closer to Gun, his cheeks a slight pink.
Sound and Win argue from where they were fixing the drinks. Phat had to be the one that calmed them down. "Well, since Win is terrible at proportions, we can only do one shot."
Yo raises suddenly, spooking the others. "Shot! Shot! Shot!"
Gun and Por were the best at handling their alcohol. The others usually fell off the wagon pretty quickly, so Gun was a bit relieved that this time around they didn't have much, or otherwise the night would derail like it usually does.
Sound passes the cups around as Gun turns down the stereo. He taps a plastic fork against his foam cup, obviously failing to get the other's attention (beside's Tinn's) so he shouts for them to be quiet.
It's another beat before he speaks. "I'd just like to say something," He clears his throat. "Tonight has been the furthest Chinzhilla's has ever gone, and it doesn't stop here," The others nod along with him, looking proud and triumphant. "From here, we win Hot Wave. From here, we show the administrators why the music club is important. From here -- we'll show everybody what we have, and we let every hater, every doubter, and every disbeliever know why we belong!" He held his hand out in front of the table. The others copy. "To Chinzhilla!"
"To Chinzhilla!" they touch cups and they all throw back the bitter alcohol, choking and shivering from its awful taste.
"Ai'Win! You should've brought chasers!" Sound whines, his eyes squeezing shut.
Win looks at him dumbfounded, slapping the back of his head. "Oi! weren't you the one that was supposed to be in charge of drinks tonight?"
"P'Sound was too busy with something else," Yo wiggles his eyebrows and impersonates himself squirting lotion on his hands and jacking off, exaggeratingly letting his body fall back onto Gun's from the 'pleasure'.
The others coo and laugh as Gun watches Sound's face go red.
"Ai'Yo!" He shouts. He reaches over the table to grab at him, but Yo dodges.
"Who jerks off in the middle of the day?" Por laughs.
"This guy does!" Win points, cackling with the others.
Sound grows a deeper red as he tries to defend himself to a bunch that could care less.
"You're all laughing at me like you've never done it before!" He argues. "Everyone does it!"
"Of course we do P'Sound," Win gives fake sympathy, "Just not as much as you do!" And he continues his firey cackle, something between a seal and an intoxicated donkey.
Gun finds himself laughing along for the heck of it, but after a while, it wanes.
The conversations between them continue to spiral, getting worse and worse. Eventually they stop arguing with Sound and instead rush into some quite intimate details of their self-pleasuring lifestyle that Gun was definitely not taking a part of.
Not because he didn't want to - but because he couldn't.
Gun had never masturbated before.
He was a little bit of a late bloomer, having started puberty at least a year after everyone else his age. And that was around the time his mom needed more help with her business, so even when some sexual desire crossed his mind, he was always too busy working or going to school or making music to pursue it.
Any time he had gotten close to masturbating, he'd be interrupted or was too deep in thought to get himself hard enough to. It's his struggle he'd never want to admit, a bit ashamed that the only time he's ever ejaculated was when he woke up in the middle of the night from a wet dream. And that was only once.
These guys at least did it once a week.
"Come on!' Sound's voice comes out, loud and heavy and slurred. Nobody was drunk off of a singular shot, but they were going to at least act like it. "How is using lotion old?"
Gun was lost as to where their conversation has gone.
"You don't use lube?' Phat chimes in, usually the quieter one in the group.
"Right Phat. Let me put lube on the bottom of my mom's grocery list.'
"I just steal some from my dad." And everyone groans in disgust. That's also where Gun tunes out again.
He joins Tinn who was seated on the partial couch that randomly appeared one day. He drops his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling that so badly needed repairs. He turns to see Tinn looking back at him. They both had seemed not too interested in talking about bodily functions that neither wanted to know of the others doing.
Tinn leans closer to Gun, placing his hand carefully over the younger's and squeezing.
Nobody was being mindful of them, but Gun glanced in their direction just in case.
"Are you okay?' He whispers, quiet enough for only Gun to hear.
Before Gun left Tinn's spot, they had sat together the entire night, practically joined at the hip. He hoped it didn't draw the others' attention to their increased share time together, or how anywhere they went, Tinn went too.
"Mhm," he mumbled. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You seem -- really lost in thought," Tinn answers.
His boyfriend (omg, he loved saying that, even if it was in his head) had quite the eye for detecting things like this -- like Gun's mood, temper -- thoughts.
And like always, Gun brushes Tinn's worries off. He was okay -- kind of. If the trouble of him not getting off was enough to stir his head then the naughty thought of Tinn doing it was a battle.
And for the rest of the night, that's what was on his mind -- what he sounded like, looked like, the technique he used.
Gun wasn't the one to blush, but he felt it creep up his back and stop at his neck. He just hoped the older wasn't paying him that much attention.
They should probably get over the hump of kissing before moving on to something more -- extreme.Except, Gun's mind loved betraying him, and his thought process was like that for days.
──•°.-ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ-.°•──
Come another week of Gun's intrusive thoughts, and Tinn couldn't handle it anymore, he needed to know what was wrong with the younger.
So he asks and asks until Gun is so fed up (with himself and Tinn's meddling) that he explains his awful circumstances.
At first, he's sure that Tinn would be a bit weirded out, but the older is surprisingly calm about it.
So Gun goes home one day with Tinn's advice rummaging through the old ones he's given himself and tries.
If you think too hard, then nothing's going to happen. He remembers. Just keep breathing, close your eyes, and let your mind imagine what it is you're feeling -- thinking.
And it's -- a fail. Nothing got him more than semi-hard.
So when they're down in the basement, wiping down instruments and cleaning up last night's celebration -- he asks.
"Tinn?"
"Yes?" he responds, turning to look back as he wiped down the cymbals to the drums, making sure to place attentive eyes on Gun.
"I--" he starts but stops, trying his best not to flush pink. "I tried what you said, but -- it didn't work."
Tinn blinks. "What I said?"
The younger nods. He can't keep his eyes glued to Tinn's with the amount of embarrassment hitting his chest. He looks awkwardly back down at the trash bag in his hand.
"Yeah, about --" Gun's clumsy with his supposed-to-be jerking-off motion.
Tinn's eyes widen when it hits him. "Oh, right." He stands from his position on the floor and walks over to throw away his dirty paper towel.
Tinn abruptly got so close that Gun was scared the warmth of red across his body would cause him to pass out.
"Aw man," Tinn sighs, turning his lips downwards. "Did thinking of me not help?"
The gears in Gun's brain immediately stop turning. They're blowing up and short-circuiting and frying his nervous system, all in one.
"Did -- thinking--" He can't seem to fix his mouth to repeat the older's. Now Gun could really pass out. "Huh?"
"By thinking of something I meant me," he pouts. "I guess you didn't."
Gun can only blink profusely. "Huh?"
Tinn finally takes into consideration that he was tearing Gun into pieces, his nonchalantness melting the strength in the younger's legs.
"Sorry, I should've said something." His voice is soft.
"No, I just-" Gun doesn't even know what to say. "I think I'm going to need some better advice."
"That's all the advice I have," Tinn grabs more trash from the table and places it in the bag Gun was still managing to hold up.
The corner of Tinn's mouth curves upward and he makes direct eye contact with Gun, who braces for what he was about to say.
"Maybe I could -- help you?"
──•°.-ˏˋ ♡ ˊˎ-.°•──
They choose a Friday night, one where Tinn's parents were gone on vacation and he had the house all to himself. Gun was adamant about making sure when they do this, nobody would be home. "Just in case," he says, and Tinn agreed.
Now they were both sitting cross-legged on the older's bed. Gun tried his damnedest to not be awkward since Tinn had created this safe space where he was calm and collected -- maybe a lot more than Gun was comfortable with.
Gun makes eye contact with the older that sat in front of him. The room was dimmed, set to an atmospheric pale blue by his LEDs, bathing the room in a peaceful glow. "What's this?" Tinn's voice was incredibly low and it makes Gun's spine stiffen, sitting him up even straighter than before. Gun gulps down the urge to take away the box sitting in between them and mutter out a 'never mind'. He swallows again, hard, feeling his Adam's apple bob.
"Gun?" Tinn calls out his name when he doesn't answer.
Gun glances from the pleading-puppy look in Tinn's eyes to the geometric shapes on the bed sheets and back. "I thought this would be easier if -- we had lube." He finally croaks out.
Tinn's eyebrows lift in surprise. He takes the pair of scissors and opens the seam to the box.
"It's not -- It's not--" Gun swallows again, his voice failing him. he feels himself already getting flushed. From the way Tinn's gaze flickers from him back to the box; he figures he was staring at his neck which must be crimson red.
Gun shifts trying to get rid of the anticipation of Tinn opening the box. He scratches his mouth when the older grabs the component inside and lays it on the bed. "it'snotthebest," he mumbles out.
"What?"
"It's not the best," he repeats, slower. "It's the cheapest I could find, I think it was only 215 baht." he huffs out a breath.
Then, in another tumbling rush: "Iwanttoseewhatitfeelslike."
"You--what?" Tinn grins. From the look on his face, he was trying to hold back from laughing. "Talk slower."
"The guys were talking the other day about how lube is the best thing to use for -- y'know." Gun wipes his sweaty palms on his sweatpants. "So --" He gestures to the lube Tinn was holding. "Yeah." Words still weren't wording for him.
He's hoping Tinn will fill in the blanks he was so terribly not able to do himself. "Okay." Tinn lightheartedly laughs. He bends down to lay the box on the floor and puts the lube on the nightstand.
Tinn comes back up and they make eye contact again. Gun looks away, sucking in his lips. He slumps again, playing with his fingernails like they were a toy.
The room was so torturingly quiet that Gun wished a black hole would appear and swallow him until he was just a speck of dust floating around the universe.
This whole experience was going to be terrible, wasn't it?
"Ai'Gun, don't worry." he hears Tinn say, sounding a lot closer than before. He's startled when he looks up and sees Tinn is at least 2 times closer to him than he originally was. Tinn's hands grip his shoulders. They're warm and big and Gun thinks he might faint.
"How are you not nervous?" Gun asks. Tinn was incredibly calm, like he's done this before or something.
"Cause there's nothing to be nervous about. Boyfriends do this stuff. It's completely normal." Tinn loosens the knot in Gun's chest, but it is still not enough to halt his racing heart. There was still so much to it -- the fact that Gun was going to expose himself, make sounds, cum even if this was successful.
How was Tinn not worrying about any of this?
"But I know you're nervous, Which that's okay." His hands travel down the rest of Gun's arms until his hands are resting on top of the younger's. "We'll go slow. Super slow until we find a comfortable pace." A pause and Tinn's leaned over to be closer to his ear. "The minute it gets to be too much, just say something and we'll stop." Gun swallows for the umpteenth time again. "This isn't supposed to be uncomfortable." Tinn leans back, searching the younger's eyes for understanding. "Okay?"
Gun nods, his heart warm. "Okay."
They both grin at one another.
Great, they have gotten past that hump, but how exactly were they going to start this?
For another moment it was silence while Tinn's thumbs rubbed at Gun's palms. They made eye contact and it was sheepish on Gun's end. He focused on his breathing -- in and out, in and out.
"So, how did you want to do this?" Gun is surprised that he's the one to speak up first.
Tinn lets go of Gun's hands and scoots himself back until his back is against the headboard. "I was thinking you could lay in my lap. It might help you to not be so nervous."
Nervous was an understatement for Tinn, and it's not any better when he moves closer to the older, tentatively pulling his leg over his so that he was on top.
Tinn flushes -- for once, and looks up to meet Gun's eyes. "I meant -- the other way. In between my legs."
Gun mouthes an 'O' and forces out a chuckle, hoping it didn't sound too fake.
He places himself where the older one had requested him to be. "Like this?"
"Mhmm." Tinn hums. His voice was so close to his ear, his breath tickling the hairs on his neck.
"Lean back on me." And Gun does, reacting with a shaky sigh at Tinn's warmth cascading on his backside.
Tinn wraps his arms around his waist. "This good?"
Gun nods. His large hands roam over his's stomach, rubbing and massaging over his shirt. He does this for what feels like a few minutes, and Gun's eyes eventually close, taking in the way it feels to have someone else's skin on his.
"You're still doing okay?" Tinn asks every so often. His hands steadily go lower and lower. Gun tries not to react to it too much. Breathe in. Breathe out.
"Can I touch your belly?" But before Gun can respond, his hands find their way under his shirt, gliding around. They're extremely hot and Gun can't help but squirm. "Good?" And Gun gives a positive hum.
"I'm going to kiss you here," and his even hotter lips are below Gun's ear, giving feathery pecks. He holds in the awkward sound between a groan and a hum that threatens to spill.
Gun settles in further into Tinn's touch. He never thought hands touching his stomach and lips kissing his ear would feel so good.
A rare tightness forms in his sweats, pushing out a pulse of nerves. Was it normal to get hard so early like this? It hadn't even been 5 minutes.
"Tinn," Gun breathes out. "You-- can you touch me now?" He was fighting to not thrust up into the air, needing some kind of contact.
"Of course." And his right hand slides down to cup Gun's bulge. They exhale together. He keeps kissing, going further down and placing them on Gun's neck.
"Like this?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Gosh Gun. You're already hard."
"Yeah," Gun's mind was already going blank, only able to respond short and sweet. He does a test grind against Tinn's hand and if he wasn't trying to hold on, he could've cum right there. Pretty embarrassing, but in the moment, that's all he wanted. It felt too good too fast.
"I'm close already." He admits shyly. "I think we should hurry."
"Okay." Tinn slips his hand under the waistband of Gun's sweatpants, "I'm gonna take you out."
Gun breath hitches. "Hurry." He gripped the sheets, holding everything in for dear life. Nothing Gun ever did compare to an ounce of what it was like now. It was so overwhelming.
That's the first time Gun moans -- when Tinn takes him in his hands. Gun's hands move, now gripping Tinn's thighs.
He pulls down his pant just enough so that his cock springs free from the barricades it was in. Gun looks down, having never seen himself so hard, glistening with pre-cum.
Tinn leans over to get the lube, having forgotten to take off the wrapping, so now he's fiddling with that, and Gun's cock feels cold without the other's touch.
"Sorry." Tinn squirts it into his hand, and as slow as possible, he starts a slow motion, stroking up and down.
Gun has to lay his head on the older's shoulder -- the sensation being too much -- too new.
"You have to watch Gun. This is for you to learn."
Oh right. Gun had forgotten this entire thing was so that he could touch himself and be able to climax. But he wondered if he could ever be satisfied by anything else besides Tinn's hands.
"I think I'll cum if I look." Gun admits. Tinn's hand slows. "We can slow down."
He wants to whine in protest but doesn't bother. He lifts his head and looks down at the mess that was occurring in front of him. Tinn's hand looks so pretty wrapped around his cock. He wasn't very big, and Tinn's hand only made him look smaller. It looks ungodly. It looks so fucking good.
He bit down on his cheek, hoping the pain's enough to reduce the pleasure.
"Just like this." his hand is slow, gliding up and down. "You have to go slow, otherwise you'll work yourself up pretty quickly." Gun's eyes had glossed over, and he was barely paying attention, but he hums for Tinn's sake. "Sometimes that's not a good thing. Being gentle and going a steady pace will help in the long run."
Gun thinks he's fallen in love with the image of Tinn jerking him off. Eventually, Tinn goes back to his normal speed, and Gun just gets dizzier, his lids getting droopier.
The contrast between Tinn's rough skin and the slick lube is driving Gun crazy. He can't hold himself up anymore, and he lets his head fall back with a thud.
He wants to cum so bad but Tinn was still giving instructions, saying something about going slow will bask him in the stimulation than going fast would and blah blah blah.
"Tinn, I really need to cum."
"Just a little more. I promise it's gonna feel real good." Tinn takes breaks to put on more lube and circles Gun's slit with his index finger.
Gun was practically mewling like an animal. He wanted to stop, but he literally couldn't. The sounds came up and out of his throat and he couldn't do anything about it.
"Kiss me," Gun glances up at Tinn's face. He was flushed red and warm. He was going to cringe at this later, but for now, he didn't care.
The older one obliges and their lips are messy against one another. it's erratic and they're not in sync at all, but it's enough to push Gun over the edge that Tinn kept dangling him over.
"Tinn, I think I'm gonna cum." He pants in the older's mouth. His voice was so unrecognizable -- high in pitch and whiny.
"Let it out, baby. Let it all go for me."
Gun holds his breath and he feels his stomach tense. His mouth can only hover open, unable to kiss Tinn back. His back arches away from Tinn's chest, arms straining as he shakes his way through his orgasm that's so intense he feels his toes curl.
Tinn's hand keeps at its pace. "Ride it out."
"Oh wow," he pants. His breath hitches again with an aftershock. It's another 20 seconds before his breath is controlled.
Gun sinks his back into Tinn, all the limbs in his body going numb.
That was like nothing he felt before. It was like a deep breath, a warm sunny day, his favorite dish.
When Gun feels strong enough he scoots himself off of Tinn and turns to look at how fucked the other look -- his hair's over his face, spit glistening his chin and jaw from their sloppy kiss, his clothes a bit askew.
Gun should return the favor. "Do you want me to touch you?"
Tinn flushes. "It's okay." Tinn peers down and Gun's eyes follow. A wet spot was seen on his dark-wash jeans.
"Oh." Gun can't help laughing.
"Yeah." And the older laughs with him.
Gun leans over to kiss the other's cheek. "Thanks."
They both wash up and sleep peacefully through the night, and by the morning time, Gun is begging for his touch again.
And this happens at lunch and dinner too. Gun wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to get himself off, but he knew his amazing boyfriend could.
And that was plenty.