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Kanghan can’t get this moment with Sailom out of his mind. Sure - no one including himself would call this incident a " moment " but rather " bullying " but that didn't change the fact that the feeling of power had done something to him, which he carries now with him. And even though he had this feeling many times before, enjoyed it, savoured it, this time it was different. And that has only partly to do with this kiss… the one that had gone wrong. The one, which he hadn't even wanted. At least not like that. Kanghan tries to clear his mind. He showered (cold), jerked off (not cold.), tried to distract himself with social media (boring) and yet nothing is so present in his head like the way he unbuttoned Sailom’s Shirt, nothing as clear as his euphoria, when he forced the head of Sailoms dumb friend onto the others and…
fuck.
It is late. Kanghan lies in his bed, eyes wide, brain freaking awake, while his body feels worn out. Tired and so restless at the same time, not even sure why he can’t reach the point where he falls asleep. Is it the rest of excitement that still runs through his veins? Or maybe more like the embarrassment he felt, because this poor little fucker kissed him instead of his useless friend in front of everyone? With an disgusted grunt he let the back of his hand whip over his lips…just to take a second for himself and instead of continuing to whip the others mouth from his, he hesitantly started to caress his lower lip, where Kanghan still thought to feel the plumb softness of the others kiss. But no, this isn’t right… Actually it hasn’t been soft. Not at all. It felt more like Sailom had pressed his teeth on his mouth than anything else, but while Kanghans head is filled with anger, while his heart is filled with despise - banishing the ounce of shame and the feathery light weight of fear - his stomach is just filled with want and desire. “Desire” as in ‘he wants more’. “More” like more of the stressed face and the visible rattling of the gears inside of this beautiful - shit no - head. At this point he is not even sure whether he had become angry afterwards because his plan had not worked out or because there was no way Sailom could not have realized that he had physically reacted to his attack. Perhaps both were right in the end. Maybe because he would just really like to see this fucking proud nerd kneel before him. And there was nothing gay about wanting to see another guy kneel in front of him. People should just know where their place is. And Sailom's is and will always be below him. Prostrated. Underneath him....
But to be honest… maybe it is indeed actually kind of gay that he got - undeniable - kind of hard again when he thought about it. Kanghan makes a little displeased sound, as his hand wanders south. Nearly annoyed, he tries to fix the problem by giving himself more space in his shorts. Because… No?!? He will not do it again. Not again while thinking of him and his arm around his shoulders at the garage. Or the little cheeky glimpse, when he nearly, n e a r l y did what he told him to do after their teacher forced Sailom to delete this freaking video. Shit it felt so good when he was in control of the situation in this bureau…and it feels so good now when he palmed the base of his dick….
“Just a little...”, he tells himself in thoughts, as his grip tightens around his sensitive member. He would not go all the way. Not when the memory of the twitch of the corner of someone's mouth causes his hand to start moving in slow up and down motions. That asshole. This motherfucker. This.... Kanghan's hand quickens. He feels that his movements send shivers through his synapses and make his legs feel tense.
The little moaned "Mhm..." melts on his tongue like soft caramel and without him being able to do anything about it, he wonders what Sailom's hand would feel like instead of his own. How it would feel to have him beside him, maybe on top of him, while he strokes, strokes, strokes and eventually kisses, kisses, kisses him again. Deeper this time maybe, open mouthed, so he could lick inside this disobedient mouth, which knows so many ways to infuriate him so well, as if it were his job to make him angry. He would love to see his reaction if he pulled him closer; so close that their dicks would grind against each other and that they would start to move first slowly and smoothly and then increasingly faster and faster. Kanghan wants to hear Sailom’s moans. He wants to hear him breathing hard and in a very staccato way, when he would order him to go down on him and use his tongue for something else then forming naughty words. He imagines how his lips would feel around his tip and how the barely smaller boy would gag on his cock when he would thrust in his mouth and without realizing it Kanghan presses his heels in the sheets while thrusting in his hand and into the plain air; his own lips are pressed together, doing his best to avoid any sound to escape his throat. Didn’t he tell himself not to finish like this?
“Well, fuck this”, he decides.
This was the hottest thing he ever experienced (and that was somethin his friends also were not allowed to know ever.) and it seems nearly unpossible to stop now, when he was close; so fucking close and he gets closer, closer, closer with every stroke, with ever imaginary breath that touches his skin and every lick, he wishes to be real. He wishes for it so much, while his hand goes faster and the images in his head get realer and simultaneously increasingly more naughty. And naughty it feels to imagine his classmate moaning his name while Kanghan fucks himself into him in a pace he wanted (fuck when did his imaginary put this picture in his mind?! His grip got harder. Significantly.), as long and in the way he decided and Sailom would just obey. He wants him to say it. He wants him to say “Please” and “Yes.” and to be listened to. He needs Sailom to respect him, because his own father could never and…
Kanghan bites his lower lip when he climaxes. He feels that his hand got sticky and his body after tensing up immensely suddenly getting limp. When he exhales, his breath seems still kind of shallow and when he opens his until then closed eyes the images in his head suddenly disappear. As if Sailom, who might otherwise have laid next to him, tired and exhausted but content, simply vanishes into thin air. As if this never would have happened, because it hasn't. All that was left was his own cum in his hand, on the bedspread and his belly, and the knowledge that he would have to secretly do the laundry himself tomorrow if he doesn’t want the housestaff to know about his literal mindfuck. He now is back in his secret world where no one was supposed to know anything. Where Sailom is not obedient, but the most insufferable little brat in the world. And it almost feels a little bit lonely. But loneliness turns into ire oh so easily. Ire becomes hatred even easier and hatred exhales its spores in violence and while that hatred may have been directed at himself, he directs the violence at others. Maybe Kanghan knows that it is not good or at least okay. Perhaps. But at the same time, everything is so easy to justify to oneself when one owns the world. For a second he just took his time to breathe, to watch his tummy get up and down from his working lungs in his chest. And maybe he enjoys the peace. At least for now.
Eventually he grabs himself some tissues to clean up, just to throw the used kleenex carelessly on the floor and closes his eyes again. He was tired… and when he fell asleep a short time after, there remained just one simple thought on cocky eyes, a person so full of himself who will never surrender. Sailom would never obey him. But maybe Kanghan just likes to play. He dreamed about following a white rabbit that night.
**End**