Work Text:
The glow of the smartphone screen was the only light in the quiet car as they headed back from Central World. First scrolled through the #GMMTVFANIVAL2026xFirstKhaotung hashtag, tired but smiling at the sea of orange and black photos.
Then, he saw it.
It wasn't a wide shot of them waving. It wasn't even a photo of their faces.
It was ahigh-definition close-up, cropped aggressively to focus on the small of Khaotung’s back. Specifically, where First’s own hand was resting against the dark denim of Khao’s jeans, right above the white branded waistband of his underwear that had peeked out during the walk.
The post had 10k retweets.
First felt a familiar tightening in his chest. He looked over at the person sleeping beside him. Khaotung had his head tilted against the window, looking completely soft and unassuming in his soft shirt—nothing like the "lethal" version of him currently trending globally.
First leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. "Khao."
Khaotung stirred, blinking his eyes open. "Hm? Are we home?"
"Not yet," First said, turning the phone screen toward him. "Did you know your pants were this low during the parade?"
Khaotung squinted at the screen, a sleepy smirk forming as he realized what he was looking at. "Oh. That. I told you these jeans were a bit loose, Ter. You were the one who said they looked good."
"I said they looked good on you," First countered, his thumb hovering over the 'Save' button even as his brow furrowed. "I didn't say I wanted thirty thousand people analyzing the thread count of your CKs."
Khaotung chuckled, a dry, raspy sound that made First’s heart skip. He reached out, his fingers trailing over the back of First’s neck, pulling him just an inch closer.
"Are you jealous of a picture, First Kanaphan?"
"I'm not jealous," First lied instantly, though his grip on the phone tightened. "I just... I don't like sharing everything."
Khaotung’s eyes darkened playfully. He leaned in until his lips were brushing against First’s ear, his voice dropping to a whisper that didn't reach the driver in the front. "They only see the picture, First. You’re the one who gets to put your hand there for real when the cameras are off."
First went quiet, the possessive heat in his chest settling into something deeper and much more dangerous. He locked his phone and slid it into his pocket, his arm winding firmly around Khaotung’s waist to pull him flush against his side.
"Keep talking like that," First whispered back, "and you're wearing a turtleneck to the event tomorrow.
—
By the time they pulled into the underground parking of First’s building, the photo had over 20k likes.
First killed the engine and sat there for a second, jaw tight. “Inside. Now.”
Khaotung didn’t argue. He knew that tone.
The elevator ride up was torture. First stood close enough that their arms brushed, but he didn’t touch him properly. Not yet.
The second the front door of the penthouse clicked shut behind them, First spun Khaotung around and shoved him back against it, mouth crashing down in a bruising kiss.
“You let them see,” First growled against his lips, hands already shoving under the hoodie. “You let every single person on Twitter see what’s mine.”
“It was an accident—” Khaotung started, but First bit his bottom lip hard enough to make him gasp.
“Accident?” First’s palm slid down Khaotung’s spine and cupped his ass possessively through the jeans. “Half the internet is going crazy to the sight of your waistband and your lower back right now. They’re calling it the ‘CK moment.’ They’re zooming in like they have the right to look at you like that.”
You think that photo belongs to the. public?"
Khaotung let out a shaky moan, his head falling back against the door. "No... First..
.""Exactly," First whispered, his hand sliding further down, claiming the territory he had marked all day
He yanked the shirt up roughly, bunching it under Khaotung’s arms and exposing his stomach and chest. First’s mouth latched onto his collarbone, sucking a dark mark right away.
“First… fuck…”
“Yeah. Say my name.” First dragged his teeth down, tongue tracing the waistband of those damned Calvins. “Louder. I want the whole building to know who you belong to.”
Khaotung’s head thunked back against the door as First dropped to his knees right there in the entryway. He mouthed along the exposed skin, tongue dipping under the elastic, while his hands worked the jeans open. Khaotung’s cock sprang free, already hard and leaking.
First swallowed him down without warning, throat relaxing as he took him to the hilt. Khaotung cried out, fingers tangling in First’s hair.
“Shit—First—your mouth feels so good—”
First pulled off with a wet pop, stroking him roughly. “This cock? Mine. This body they’re all drooling over? Mine.” He sucked him back in, hollowing his cheeks, one hand pinning Khaotung’s hips to the door so he couldn’t chase the heat.
Khaotung’s thighs shook. First could feel him getting close already. He pulled off again, ignoring his desperate whine.
“Not yet.” First stood, spinning Khaotung around so his chest pressed against the cool wood of the door. “You don’t come until I’ve fucked the memory of that photo out of both of us.”
He shoved the jeans and boxers down to Khaotung’s ankles, kicked his legs wider, and slicked two fingers with spit. He pushed them in without mercy, scissoring fast and deep.
“Ah—fuck—First, slow down—”
“No.” First bit the back of his neck. “You showed them what’s mine. Now I’m reminding you who owns it.” He added a third finger, curling them brutally against Khaotung’s prostate until the younger man was sobbing and pushing back onto his hand.
“Please—need you inside me—”
First pulled his fingers out, freed his own aching cock, and pressed the head against Khaotung’s hole. “Tell me.”
“I’m yours,” Khaotung gasped immediately. “Only yours. Always. Please—”
First thrust in hard, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. Khaotung moaned loud enough that it echoed through the entryway. First didn’t give him time to adjust — he pulled back and slammed in again, setting a punishing rhythm.
“Mine,” he snarled with every thrust. “This tight little ass is mine. Every inch they were thirsting over belongs to me.” His hand wrapped around Khaotung’s throat from behind, not choking, just holding — a possessive collar. “Say it again.”
“Yours—fuck—I’m yours, First—harder—”
First obliged, hips snapping faster, the sound of skin slapping skin filthy in the quiet apartment. He reached around and stroked Khaotung in time with his thrusts until the younger man shattered with a broken cry, cumin hard across the door and First’s fist.
First followed right after, burying himself deep and filling him with hot pulses, marking him from the inside.
They stayed locked together, panting. First pressed soft kisses to the bite marks on Khaotung’s shoulder.
But it wasn’t enough. The jealousy still burned low in his gut.
He pulled out slowly, watching his come drip down Khaotung’s thigh. “Living room now,” he ordered, voice rough. “We’re not done.”
---
Khaotung barely had time to kick off his jeans before First was guiding him through the living room, shirt still bunched up around his chest. First pushed him onto the wide leather couch, face down, ass up.
“Look at you,” First murmured, running possessive hands over Khaotung’s back and ass. “Still leaking my cum and already hard again. Greedy.”
He spread Khaotung open and licked a stripe over his hole, tasting himself. Khaotung whimpered, pushing back.
“First—please—”
First ate him out like he was starving, tongue fucking inside while one hand stroked Khaotung’s cock. When Khaotung was shaking and begging again, First flipped him onto his back, hooked his legs over his shoulders, and slid back inside in one smooth thrust.
This time he went slower, deeper, grinding against Khaotung’s prostate on every stroke.
“Eyes on me,” First demanded. “I want you looking at me while I fuck you. Not thinking about how many people saved that picture.”
Khaotung’s eyes were glassy, lips swollen. “Only you… only ever you…”
First leaned down, folding him nearly in half, and kissed him messily. “Good boy.”
He fucked him through a second orgasm on the couch, then carried him — still impaled — to the kitchen island. He bent Khaotung over the marble, the cold surface making him gasp, and took him again from behind, hard and fast.
By the time they reached the bedroom, Khaotung was boneless and covered in marks. First laid him on the bed gently this time, crawling over him.
“One more,” First whispered, sliding back inside slowly. “Want to feel you cum around me while I’m buried deep.”
Khaotung wrapped his legs around First’s waist, pulling him closer. “Fill me up again. Want to feel it leaking out of me all night.”
First didn't wait any longer. He drove into him in one smooth, forceful motion, a silent claim that made Khaotung’s vision go white.
It wasn't gentle. It was the physical manifestation of every jealous thought First had suppressed all day. Each thrust was a reminder: This is mine. This skin is mine. This sound is mine.Khaotung’s hands found First’s back, his nails digging into the muscle as he tried to pull him closer, to disappear into the sensation. "First... oh god, First... more... give me more..."The room was filled with the rhythmic sound of skin hitting skin and the desperate, messy noises of two people who had been wanting this for hours.
First kept his eyes locked on Khaotung’s, watching the way his face contorted in pleasure, marking the exact moment he lost control.
When the end came, it was explosive. First held Khaotung tight, his face buried in the crook of his neck, grounding them both as the waves of heat finally broke.Long after the adrenaline faded, First remained draped over him, his heartbeat slowing against Khaotung’s chest.
He reached up, his thumb tracing the swollen line of Khaotung’s lower lip, “No one else gets this. No one else gets to see you like this. Only me.”
“Only you,” Khaotung repeated like a prayer
---
Afterwards, First pulled Khaotung into his chest, arms wrapped tight around him under the sheets.
The jealousy had finally eased into warm possessiveness.
“Delete the photo from your mind,” First murmured, kissing his temple. “Next time I carry you, it’s only in private. Where no one else can see what’s mine.”
Khaotung smiled sleepily against his neck.
“Possessive much?”
“You have no idea.” First’s hand slid down to cup his ass again. “And I’m keeping you in this bed until Twitter forgets that picture ever existed.”
Khaotung shivered happily and nuzzled closer. “Good. I don’t want to leave anyway.”
Outside, the city lights glowed. Inside First’s house, behind locked doors, Khaotung was claimed, marked, and thoroughly fucked — exactly where he belonged.