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“How do you kiss someone until they drop, anyway?” he asks Sarawat, curious. It’s a genuine question that’s been plaguing him ever since he’d met the man. On their first meeting, actually, when the man smack-dab shoved that beautiful greeting in his stuttering face.
From the corner of his periphery, he notices Sarawat turn still, but he ignores him as he picks up the stack of papers filled with lyrics and guitar chords and chucks them away into a folder. The both of them are the only ones left in the Music Club room, as per usual, hanging out to practice and play the guitar.
He steals a glance at the man, whose face has not moved an inch since he spoke. Was this man really capable of making someone drop? Just by kissing? Did Sarawat have a super long tongue or something?
No, no, that couldn’t be it. There had to be some kind of special technique, a secret skill that had to be learned in order to make someone collapse from something so mundane as a peck on the lips. But what?
Tine has kissed before, of course. It would be hard not to given his terrifyingly long list of girlfriends, and maybe he had never really subjected himself to kissing them long enough to like, faint or something, except for that one time he forgot to eat breakfast and an ex-girlfriend made out with him so hard, his anaemic tendencies suddenly decided to kick in and cock-block him by knocking him out unconscious, thus foiling his long awaited plans to canoodle.
However, It was in the past and they broke up not too long after because she snagged for herself a more handsome, muscular and healthier guy than Tine, which, obviously did not hurt nor make an impact on Tine’s pride at all. Tine wishes her nothing but good will.
On the other hand, he’s been taking his supplements on the daily and making sure to always eat breakfast on time, thus any possible encounter with the god-hand of anaemia during another make out session would be futile against him.
It doesn’t really make sense to him why and how someone would drop from kissing, unlike in porn or movies, where they would plop onto some convenient support such as a bed to get down to business, and obviously those don’t count because they’ve been scripted and planned. However, in books, where a make out session would explicably make a character buckle to their knees, or whatever kind of similar corny sentiment, such things were lost on him.
“What?” Sarawat snaps him out of his reverie, and he turns back to look at him. He blinks.
“I’ll say it slower. How do you kiss someone until they drop?” he repeats his sentence as if teaching a kid, and he knows he’s currently being condescending but he can’t help but snicker at the other man’s wide-eyed and childlike expression.
Sarawat ponders for a few moments before he sets down his guitar and turns to face Tine. “You really want to know?”
“Psh, yeah,” Tine says offhandedly.
“Want me to show you?”
At that, he stills. There’s a subtle change in the tone of voice directed towards him, and Tine isn’t sure if he feels comfortable about it. Despite his overbearing need to push at the topic, he hesitates.
“Um,” he replies helpfully. “What was that?”
Sarawat scratches the back of his head irritatedly and sucks in a breath between his teeth, as if Tine’s bludgeoning stupidity and inability to comprehend his simple inquiry was taking a toll on his health.
“Do you want me to show you? Give you a direct demonstration of how to kiss someone ‘till they drop?”
“With who? You? No thanks.”
Alright, maybe Tine didn’t think about his answer very thoroughly before actually projecting it out into the world and Sarawat, whose big-dicked demeanour displayed itself when he pushed ideas he was fixated on, followed up with an alarmingly daunting question that made Tine want to stuff his mouth up with soap.
“What, you’re not scared, are you?”
Well, shit. There it is. That masterful way Sarawat prods at his pride with a goddamn stick, challenging his inability to refuse a challenge and possibly stain his reputation of being a fearless man. The question throws him off enough that now, he’s compelled to come forward and disprove Sarawat’s preposterous claims against him, although a small part of him knows he’s being lured into a trap.
“I’m not scared!” He says, snootily looking down at the other man, although they’re both of similar height.
“Hmm,” Sarawat hums noncommittally.
“I’m not, really!”
“Right.”
“Ha! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re the one who’s actually scared to kiss me! What are you, a chicken?”
Tine gasps inwardly; even he himself is shocked by the audacity and sudden boldness that possesses him to utter out such a devastatingly derogatory taunt, and it feels as if he had just offensively brought to question the integrity of the weight of the man’s balls, when he himself has none (figuratively).
Sarawat whips his head towards him, expression unreadable, but there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes.
Oh shit, he’s done it now.
Sometimes he wishes he could superglue his lips together to stop himself from spouting off the superfluous nonsense that’s done nothing contributive except bring about ridicule and possible violence towards himself on a daily basis.
“What was that, Tine?” Sarawat asks, voice saccharine and sickeningly sly, and Tine hallucinates a forked-tongue darting out between his lips. Uneasy, he stands up from where they’re sitting and tries to get away,but Sarawat follows him.
“I..” he gulps. He feels like a hen being offered up to a snake as food, with the way Sarawat stares at him with such wickedness. “..If I hadn’t known you better--”
The man shakes his head. “Did you just call me a chicken?”
Sarawat slowly stalks towards him, and Tine shakily backs away, cautious of every step the man takes. He feels his heart thump loudly in his chest, as sweat starts to form on his brow.
“Wat… I was just kidding,” he projects pathetically, attempting to look smaller. “You? A chicken? No way, haha..”
Tine feels his back press onto something hard and cold, and he curses when he realises that he’s cornered himself between Sarawat and the wall. Warily, his eyes dart towards the door, and he bites his lip, making up his mind to make a dash for escape. However, as he tries to slither past, Sarawat slams his hands on the wall beside Tine’s head, effectively trapping him in place.
Tine starts sweating bullets, and he thinks that this is the kind of overdone cliché scenario in which the heroine in a romance novel finds herself in a precarious predicament with a male love interest. Tine also deduces that he’s a goddamn nutcase for likening himself to a heroine in a romance novel.
His Adam’s apple bobs visibly as he gulps, feeling a shiver run up his spine when he finally meets the other man’s gleaming brown eyes, filled with something that Tine interprets as malicious intent. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for whatever blows Sarawat deemed necessary to rain down on him, but nothing comes.
Instead, there’s a soft pressure on his lips, and his eyes immediately fly open at the contact. He’s dumbstruck for a few moments before he tries to angle his head away, confused.
Sarawat pursues his lips, and doesn’t relent when Tine turns this way and that, firmly pressing onto him. He brings up his hands to push at Sarawat’s chest, but suddenly the man has both of them in his own and pins them above Tine’s head.
He feels the man sweetly pepper his lower lip with kisses, and swipes at it with his tongue, as if asking for entrance. Tine is flabbergasted, feeling a blush rise to his cheeks. What in the world!?
Suddenly, the other man starts to prod harder, compelling Tine to open his mouth, and he accidentally lets out a moan. Embarrassed by this, he attempts to speak and get himself out of this mortifying predicament.
“Hrmph! Wat, wha--” he manages to utter out, but the words are cut off when Sarawat takes the opportunity to sneak his tongue inside Tine’s mouth. Immediately, he starts exploring, moving his lips languidly along Tine’s, and the rude, unwelcome intrusion leaves him gasping.
He feels heat flood his entire upper body when the man begins prodding, sucking and licking all over his mouth, and Sarawat, he thinks idly, tastes like coffee.
He likes it.
Tine, despite himself, unintentionally starts responding to the kiss.
His heart starts thumping loudly in his chest, and Tine is afraid that Sarawat is able to hear it as he melts into the kiss unconsciously, eyes fluttering shut. Sarawat laves all over his warm mouth, breath hot and almost searing as he makes soft groans in the back of his throat. Tine struggles to catch up, his own tongue starting to incessantly explore the other man’s.
He gasps when Sarawat suddenly pulls away and he opens his eyes to see the man staring back at him intently, and Tine feels his heart skip a beat. Sarawat’s pupils are blown wide, causing his hooded eyes to look so much darker than their usual brown, and there’s a hint of cheekiness, mirth but also a predatory hunger lurking in his gaze. Up this close, he sees a tiny reflection of his dishevelled state.
Their hot breaths collide against one another for a few moments, and before he knows it, his lips are being engulfed in a searing kiss again. He gasps as he scrambles to refrain from being overwhelmed by the renewed vigour and strength that Sarawat punishes him with, but he realises his hands are still above his head, and so he moans, unable to do anything but take it.
Sarawat’s hand flies up to grip at his jaw, and puts a firm pressure that makes it almost impossible for Tine to move his head away, conveniently anchoring his lips down for the man to take and abuse for his pleasure.
He moans heavily through the kiss, while Sarawat incessantly devours him, as if intoxicated, and Tine starts panting as he tries to kiss back as much as he can, trying not to lose to the other man’s enthusiasm. Vaguely, he realises that his head is starting to spin, heady with heat and a pounding sensation that makes goosebumps crawl all over his skin.
Their teeth clash as they move aggressively against one another, and Tine feels his head tilt upwards as Sarawat’s face looms above him, commanding and directing the flow of their intimate kiss. The man mixes their saliva between their mouths, and Tine feels it dribble down his chin filthily.
Sarawat eats him up with fervour and desperation, which mar his movements with a sort of clumsiness and Tine feels himself shivering as the man continues to explore his mouth, sucking and licking at him obscenely as if starving, and Tine is the only craving that could satisfy him. The hair at the back of his neck stands at the thought.
Tine moans as every swipe, every caress and flick of the man’s tongue against his own leaves him exhausted and absolutely breathless, and he starts moving his head side to side, resisting the grip of the man’s hand on his jaw, trying to escape.
Sarawat finally lets go of his hands, and he tries to push the other man away, but he finds that they’ve lost their strength. His arms tremble weakly against Sarawat’s shoulders, helpless.
All the while, Sarawat continues to follow his lips hungrily, unrelenting and uncaring of his plight, and Tine, finally out of breath and starting to see black dots swirl along the periphery of his vision, feels his knees actually buckle, and having no more strength to support himself, collapses.
Sarawat pulls away quickly, grabs him by the waist and leans him back up on the wall, supporting him.
Tine stares up at the panting man, dazed and gasping for breath, unable to move or say anything.
He watches as Sarawat leans back down, and worn-out, he doesn’t resist the soft peck on his lips. He lets the man pepper chaste kisses all over his mouth, lets him take his bruised bottom lip between his teeth and lets him bite at it playfully while he tries to gather his breath.
Sarawat glows with pride at the mess he’s created; at the dazed, far-away look on Tine’s face, the flush on his ears and cheeks, and the pitiful state of his lips. Saliva dribbles down Tine’s mouth and chin, making his reddened and bruised lips glisten with every exhaustive breath he takes.
He doesn’t feel an ounce of pity, at all.
“So, how was it?” he asks expectantly, licking his lips.
Tine, having learned his lesson not to ask stupid questions and refrain from taunting the man lest he actually deliver, doesn’t know what to say, given his currently winded state.
Sarawat grins at him. “You almost fainted.”
At that, he finally raises a shaky middle finger and says, “D-Doesn’t count. I-I just p-probably forgot to eat t-this morning.”
It’s a lie, and they both know it, but well, at least now he knew how to kiss someone until they dropped.