Work Text:
“Sky!” Prapai greets him with a little whine as Sky sets the bags of food on Prapai’s desk, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his hands. “Come here.”
It’s tempting, Prapai with his arms open wide, backlit by the sun out the large office window, his hair messy from how many times he’s probably run his hand through it today, but Sky ignores his gesture and pulls out the food. “Not a chance.”
Prapai sighs, as if Sky is being stubborn on purpose, but Sky knows exactly what will happen if he rounds the desk and lets Prapai’s grabby little hands pull him into his lap. And he doesn’t have time for that today. He wishes he did, but he doesn’t. And he can’t tell Prapai that.
“But I’ve hardly seen you,” Prapai complains, scooting forward in the chair so he can reach across the desk and take Sky’s hand.
“You see me all the time,” Sky reminds him, even though it hasn’t been entirely true lately. But he smiles when Prapai whines again, so much the child despite being four years older than him.
Prapai ignores the food Sky passes his way, shuffling up a stack of papers to make room and ensure they don’t get dirty. “Not as much as we would if we lived together,” Prapai says, an almost hopeful tone in his voice as he plays with Sky’s fingers, brushing over where a ring would be if Sky would let him.
They’ve talked about this before, moving in together, taking their two separate lives and making them one. Well, Prapai has talked about it. Sky usually avoids giving his opinion except to say that he wants to wait until he’s done with school at least. In truth, it’s a tiny bit of fear that’s holding him back, the fear that Prapai will finally get annoyed with seeing him every day, living with his bad habits, not having the alone time he’s used to.
Prapai has long given up the condo that was filled with so many bad memories, sold it off to some businessman. He hasn’t bought a new one, took an apartment in the interim, exactly halfway between Sky’s dorm and work so he can see him as much as possible. Sky knows it would only take one word and Prapai would buy another condo for the both of them in a heartbeat.
“You’re seeing me now,” Sky says, ignoring the implication, the unasked question, knowing full well that isn’t what Prapai means, and he can’t deny the last few months haven’t been hard now that he’s in his last year at Uni, working on all his senior projects and applying for internships. Between that and Prapai’s work schedule, they haven’t had much time alone.
Sky is only here now because Namtan had texted that Prapai had been whining all morning about missing him. Sky hadn’t gotten any texts from Prapai to that effect, but he also knows Prapai is trying not to bother him while he works on his projects.
So he’d stopped by Prapai’s favorite barbecue place and picked up lunch for them both. He doesn’t have a ton of time—he has to meet Rain in half an hour to review his plan—but he can at least spend a few minutes with Prapai so neither of them go crazy.
“It’s not enough,” Prapai says, barely refraining from pouting, but he releases Sky’s hand so he can finish distributing the food and drag a chair closer to the desk.
Sky can’t disagree, and he pops open a box instead of answering. He’s busier than he’s ever been. And maybe he should be worried about how little he has seen Prapai the last couple weeks.
It isn’t that he doesn’t miss Prapai, doesn’t think about him late at night when he’s alone in his own bed because Prapai had a client dinner and Sky needs to get up early. He reminds himself that just because they’re both busy doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.
“What are you doing tonight?” Prapai asks, pulling Sky from his thoughts. So far, he’s ignoring the food Sky passes him even though Sky knows he’s probably hungry. Prapai often skips lunch unless there’s a lunch meeting, so Sky does his part to pay back all the meals Prapai has bought for him. “I could get Namtan to reschedule my last meeting and I could take you to dinner.”
He sounds so hopeful that it pains Sky to shake his head. “I have to work on my project tonight.”
“Just dessert then,” Prapai offers, suggestive, and Sky tries not to smile, poking at a piece of pork.
“We both know what that means.”
“If you don’t want to wait, we can do it right now,” Prapai says, flashing a grin at Sky across the desk. It’s scattered with papers, Namtan’s handwriting on brightly-colored sticky notes, reminding him of things to do, things to sign. He’s clearly got a busy afternoon ahead of him, and so does Sky.
“We’re not doing it in your office,” Sky says simply, pausing as a memory floods his brain and his cheeks go pink. “Again.”
He’d been sure he’d never live it down, the last time he’d come to visit Prapai unannounced, showing up just as everyone else was heading home. He doesn’t know how Prapai managed it, but he’d gotten Sky in his lap, pants around his ankles—just them and the squeak of the chair, panted breaths against bare skin, and the swish of the door when Prapai’s father had walked in.
Sky had literally tumbled off of Prapai, had had a bruise on his hip for a week, and it had been much longer before he could look Prapai’s father in the eye again. Needless to say, the idea of having sex at the office has lost its appeal.
“We can lock the door,” Prapai promises, eyes big and pleading, but they turn smug as he smirks a second later. “I still have a promise to keep.”
Sky pauses, leveling a look at Prapai, pushing his rice aside. “You have never made me pass out.” The threat, or promise as Prapai calls it, has been made many times. And although there have been times where Sky has been gasping for breath, when his eyes roll back in his head and he can’t think straight, so far, Prapai’s dick hasn’t been quite that magical.
“Pai Jr can do it,” Prapai says, and Sky rolls his eyes, especially as Prapai glances down at his crotch. “I have faith in you.”
Sky is incredibly glad the door to Prapai’s office door is closed at the moment. None of his coworkers need to hear him talking to his dick. It’s embarrassing enough that he does it at all. People don’t need to hear it. Of all of Prapai’s charms, this certainly isn’t one of them.
“Don’t you think we can make him pass out?” Prapai goes on, still talking to his crotch despite Sky’s fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Prapai looks up. “He thinks we can.”
“I don’t care what he—” Sky shakes his head sharply. He’s not going to start talking about Prapai’s dick as if it has a mind of its own—it’s bad enough that Prapai does it. He doesn’t care what Prapai’s dick thinks. It doesn’t think at all! “Not here,” he says firmly, still annoyed at himself. “And not tonight.”
“Don’t be mean, baby,” Prapai says, taking Sky’s hand again and pulling it to his lips.
Sky’s eyes narrow at the placating gesture, as if being cute will make him forget how weird his boyfriend is. Prapai kisses his fingers, gentle and soft and a little bit pleading.
“You like it when I’m mean,” he points out, knowing full well Prapai will agree. He’s said as much before, has gotten hard just from Sky’s biting retorts to his terrible pick-up lines.
Prapai’s smile grows, kissing Sky’s knuckles again before letting Sky pull his hand away, rubbing at the tingling sensation on his skin. Prapai can still cause butterflies in his stomach after all this time.
“You can be as mean as you want on Saturday, okay?” Prapai says, and Sky isn’t sure what he’s talking about.
“Saturday?”
“The race.” Prapai reaches for his rice finally, glancing up at Sky as he digs his chopsticks in. “You said you’d come.”
The street race, right. Prapai had mentioned it a few days ago, asked if Sky would come in between kisses pressed to his neck. So Sky can’t be blamed for forgetting, too distracted by Prapai’s mouth. He’d had to stop it, though, before Prapai could distract him from his work completely. Sky doesn’t always remember when the races are anyway since they seem to be as erratic as their organizer, but he nods. “I’ll be there.”
“Good,” Prapai says, sounding satisfied and at least a little bit less whiny now that he’s got Sky across from him. “Because I’ve got a surprise for you.”
A surprise? Sky isn’t sure he likes the sound of that, but Prapai is smiling at his rice, so he doesn’t ask. He’s not typically a huge fan of surprises, but Prapai’s are usually good. Not like Gun’s used to be, and he’s finally getting used to that.
Taking a breath, he decides not to prod since Prapai won’t tell him anyway. The race is only a few days away—he can wait that long, and so can Prapai.
*
The race is crowded tonight, groups of people bathed in orange lights, the scent of popcorn intermixed with motor oil wafting past Sky’s nose as he weaves his way through to the tent where Payu and Rain usually are. He still feels a momentary relief when he finds Rain there, even though he knows he’s perfectly safe. All the security guards have been on notice to keep an eye out for him since that fateful day two years ago.
Prapai doesn’t usually leave him alone except when he’s racing.
“Sky!” Rain greets him eagerly, leaving the bike he’d been leaning on to pull Sky over. “Where’s P’Pai? He didn’t come with you?” Rain peers over Sky’s shoulder as if Prapai might magically appear.
“He’s coming straight from work,” Sky says, pushing Rain back down on his toes. He hasn’t seen Prapai all day, just gotten a few texts throughout the day, all stupidly flirty and teasing about whatever this ‘surprise’ is he has planned.
It has done nothing to ease Sky’s anxiety. He just hopes Prapai isn’t planning on proposing.
“Where’s P’Payu?” he asks to distract Rain from his continued search for Prapai, as if he cares that much about him. He’s probably more concerned that Payu has spent time working on a bike that won’t get ridden.
“He’s talking to P’Pakin,” Rain says dismissively, and his eyes go wide at something behind Sky a second later. “Oh, wow.”
“What?”
Sky turns, searching the crowd and finding what is making Rain’s mouth drop open like a fish almost immediately.
Prapai parts the crowd, drawing more than a few stares and whispers, appreciative glances down the sleek new racing suit he’s wearing. Deep shimmering green, clearly custom-made with its fine leather pieces, black accents and hand-stitching that Sky can see as Prapai gets closer.
“Is this the surprise?” Sky asks when Prapai reaches him and the light catches on the green, leather sleek and rich, and Sky stops himself from touching it even though he’s sure it’s what Prapai wants. He can’t help noticing the way everyone around them is still looking, greedy eyes skimming down his backside.
“Wow, P’Pai!” Rain butts in before Prapai can answer Sky. “You look so cool! Where did you get that suit?”
“It’s custom, Rainy boy,” Prapai answers him, keeping his eyes on Sky. “The best money can buy. Have to look good for my honey.”
Rain sighs, as though Sky is so lucky, but Sky bites his lip and pulls Prapai’s fingers away from where they brush over his chin.
“You didn’t need a new suit,” he says, catching the gaze of a girl walking past, how she whispers something to her friend and they both giggle, eyes on Prapai.
It annoys him, the people looking, the fact that he cares so much about it. Deep down, he knows there’s no reason to be jealous. They’ve talked about this before, and running into Prapai’s exes has significantly decreased over the last couple years, but there’s still always someone looking when they shouldn’t be.
Prapai steps closer into Sky’s space, sliding his arms around his waist even though Sky squirms. “You don’t like it?”
They’re long past Sky lying about his feelings, and he can’t deny that Prapai looks damn good. He always does in the racing suit, but this one is Sky’s favorite color, tailored specifically to his body, tight where it matters, would feel good to grip and pull. Lifting a hand, he lets it rest on Prapai’s chest, brushing his thumb over the stitching, contemplating the shimmer in the color.
“I don’t think I’m the only one that likes it,” he says finally, and Prapai smiles slightly.
“Of course Rain likes it. You know he’s got a uniform kink.”
Grimacing, Sky shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant,” but he’s glad Rain has wandered away now that Payu has returned. He doesn’t have to time to listen to Rain arguing the difference between a kink and a preference. He rues the day Payu ever taught him about any of that.
Prapai glances around at Sky’s words, and his admirers certainly aren’t hiding their feelings tonight. Despite Prapai’s efforts to make sure everyone knows he’s taken, that hasn’t stopped people from looking. And it still bothers Sky, no matter how much he tries not to care.
Looking back at Sky, Prapai tightens his grip around his waist, pulling him closer. “You know I only have eyes for you.”
Sky knows, but he sighs anyway, fingers digging into Prapai’s shoulder. “I know.”
He wonders if he lived with Prapai, if he would still feel like this. If he wouldn’t feel more secure. But he’s the one standing in the way of that, not Prapai. Maybe if he wasn’t afraid, he wouldn’t have to feel like this.
“Mr. Prapai, your race is up next.”
One of the organizers interrupts the moment, and Sky steps back from Prapai, letting out a breath. If he lived with Prapai, he could go home with him tonight, crawl into bed next to him and let all his stupid jealousy seep out in Prapai’s warm embrace. But he has more work to do on his internship applications.
“Pai Jr also only has eyes for you,” Prapai says, and the moment is ruined as Sky makes a face. “You would never get hard for anyone else, would you?”
“Stop that!” Sky hisses, clapping a hand over Prapai’s mouth. He hadn’t expected that, looking around furtively. If Prapai wants to drive away potential suitors, that’s one way but not one Sky would prefer. “We’re in public!”
It’s one thing for Prapai to do it when they’re alone, when Sky can just roll his eyes and ignore him, but other people can hear here.
Prapai pulls his hand away, leaning into Sky’s ear and lowering his voice this time. “Do you know how often I have to tell him to calm down when you’re around?”
Sky shivers, more at Prapai’s breath on his neck than his words, which shouldn’t be enticing or attractive. He gives Prapai a shove, unimpressed and still wary of people listening in.
“If you weren’t so horny all the time…” he says obviously, swallowing at Prapai leaning in close, noses practically touching.
“Well, if you weren’t so gorgeous, I wouldn’t be,” he breathes, but he doesn’t kiss Sky, lips parted, a twitch to his features instead and he glances down. “See? Now, you gotta calm down, Pai Jr.”
Groaning, Sky jerks away from Prapai, pointedly not checking if there’s a rise in his crotch. If all of those people ogling his boyfriend knew how lame he was, they might think twice about wanting to fuck him. Or they wouldn’t—Sky supposes plenty of people only slept with Prapai because of what he looks like, and before Sky had come along, Prapai had been just as shallow.
“I’m going to go win this race, then we’ll show everyone watching just how much I belong to you,” Prapai promises, stealing a kiss before Sky can dodge out of the way.
“Not if you keep talking to yourself like that,” Sky says, but Prapai just grins, unphased.
“I’ll be right back, baby,” he says, stroking back Sky’s hair and taking the helmet one of the organizers hands him. Sky can only watch him leave, glaring at those in the crowd who do too.
Shaking himself, he sighs as Prapai is engulfed by the crowd. He does feel placated, even by Prapai’s words to his own crotch. There’s nothing to worry about when it comes to Prapai’s feelings for him. If Prapai had his way, they’d be married already, own a second home on the beach, and be raising a kitten together.
Maybe someday they will have that, but for now, Sky is perfectly content muscling his way to the front of the crowd and smugly taking the kiss Prapai blows his way before the race starts. He doesn’t even care about the glares he gets this time. He deserves them all.
*
No one has come into the drafting room for the last half an hour, and it’s been blissfully quiet. Sky has gotten a lot more done than he expected on his plans, so much more that he might even be able to meet Prapai later. Prapai has been unfailingly understanding about the amount of work he has now that he’s nearing completion of his degrees, and even he deserves a reward for being so patient.
The silence is too good to be true, though, as the door swings open not two seconds after Sky pauses to appreciate it. He recognizes Rain’s slapping footsteps without even looking, unsurprised when Rain takes the chair next to him, dumping his bag on the floor and dropping his drawing on the table.
“What are you doing here?” Sky asks, watching Rain huff at his pencil case. “I thought you were going to P’Payu’s today.”
Rain pouts. “He said I wasn’t doing any work.”
Sky doesn’t bother to ask what Rain was doing instead, sure he doesn’t want to know.
“I don’t know why it matters,” Rain goes on, smoothing out his plans. “We’ll be done with school in a couple months.”
“It matters if you want to get an internship at a good firm,” Sky answers, focusing on measuring his angles instead of the way Rain sighs.
“Couldn’t you just ask P’Pai to talk to one of the firms his company works with?”
Sky frowns. Rain probably has something all lined up at Payu’s firm already, but Sky isn’t going to use his boyfriend to get jobs—he doesn’t want to.
“I’m not going to ask P’Pai for help,” he says, annoyed that Rain would even suggest it. He can get a good internship on his own, because of his work and his talent. Not because his boyfriend has a friend somewhere.
“You never ask anyone for help,” Rain says, shaking his head, and though he says it off-handedly, distracted by his own drawing on the table, it makes Sky scoff, defensive.
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is,” Rain answers distractedly. “Remember sophomore year when you were sick? You kept insisting your were fine and then you collapsed in class. Or last year when you moved dorms and you wouldn’t let anyone help and you sprained your wrist? Or last semester when we had that big group project and you almost didn’t finish because—”
“That’s enough.” Sky stops him, a prickle of annoyance running down his spine. So he didn’t like asking for help. Big deal. He’d gotten along fine up until now. And Prapai always insisted on helping whether he wanted it or not. When he’d moved, Prapai had shown up on the second day (after the infamous sprained wrist incident that meant everyone treated him like an invalid for a month) with a pair of professional movers who did all the work for him.
“I’m just saying,” Rain says, shaking his head, “it’s not a bad thing to ask for help once in a while. P’Payu helps me with homework stuff all the time.”
“That’s because he’s an architect,” Sky points out, but Rain doesn’t seem to care.
“You know P’Pai would do whatever you wanted him to.”
It may have been true, but Sky is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He knows he has Prapai now, that Prapai would do anything he asked, no matter how stupid or embarrassing. But Sky is still his own person and he’s not helpless like everyone seemed to think after the whole Gun debacle. For a while, Rain had been following him around as if worried he might trip over his own feet. Prapai hadn’t been as bad, but Sky knew he was just as worried.
He’s sure that’s part of why Prapai wants him to move in, so that he’ll feel more secure.
Sky never asked what Prapai asked P’Pakin to do with Gun, but he hasn’t seen or heard from him since. That doesn’t mean there aren’t still nights where he wakes up in a cold sweat, when he calls Prapai to come over because he just can’t stand being alone, but it’s less now. The dreams have faded. He doesn’t walk around in fear of seeing someone who hurt him. If he lived with Prapai, he’d never be alone at night, he supposes, except when Prapai is away on business.
It would be a comforting thought except for the tiny voice in the back of his mind that says that someday Prapai will get tired of him. It hasn’t happened yet, but it’s inevitable.
So he’s not going to ask Prapai for help, with an internship or anything else. Old habits die hard he supposes. And Prapai has been such a good boyfriend since they got together—Sky isn’t going to screw that up.
For a moment, silence falls again in the room except for the twitter of birds outside the window. Focusing on his drawing, Sky tries not to think about anything other than his work. He does need to get this done before the weekend.
“Have you ever asked P’Pai to wear animals ears?” Rain asks suddenly, out of the blue, and Sky’s heart drops.
“No, Rain, no!” he says firmly, not even looking up and focusing squarely on his drawings instead.
*
Sky has a key to Prapai’s apartment. He’s had one since the day Prapai signed the lease.
He doesn’t use it much since Prapai is usually home when he comes over, but sometimes he slips into the apartment when Prapai is gone. It’s quieter here than in his dorm, with neighbors blasting loud music, and it’s bigger, brighter, more inviting as Sky spreads his work all over the coffee table in the living room.
Prapai is out of town this week, in London on business, and Sky has spent the last two nights tossing and turning in his own bed. Tonight, he plans on crawling into Prapai’s bed, curling underneath the warm sheets and letting himself be wrapped by Prapai’s scent. Even without Prapai beside him, he’ll sleep better here.
He doesn’t care to examine what that means, choosing instead to focus on his work.
For a long time, light streams in through the large windows overlooking the city, dimming the longer Sky spends scratching notes on his pages, erasing lines and redrawing them until they’re perfect. He barely notices the time passing until he can barely see his paper, the apartment bathed in twilight.
Glancing at the clock, he’s surprised how late it is. He hadn’t even noticed, so engrossed in his work. It’s so much easier to work here. Even when Prapai is home, he always lets Sky work in silence, usually choosing to read or scroll through his phone, or just watch him draw. Sometimes he climbs onto the floor beside him and helps put together trees and walls. It’s those moments where Sky realizes just how much he loves Prapai. It doesn’t freak him out like it used to, a quiet acceptance of how he feels, that Prapai feels the same.
Would they lose that if they lived together, he wonders. Would Prapai still want to be around him all the time?
Brushing his hair from his eyes, Sky sighs. It’s late and he shouldn’t be thinking these things. His time would be better spent sleeping, so he rolls up his drawings and puts them away, careful to leave the table clean.
Sky takes advantage of being in Prapai’s apartment, running a hot bath and adding a variety of oils and bubbles. He’s fairly sure that Prapai had never used the tub before he came along, favoring the much quicker showers. But now there’s a host of bath products in the cupboard, always ready.
Sinking below the bubbles, Sky lets out a long breath. He can feel the stress seeping out of him in the water as he closes his eyes. He does wish Prapai was there, a warm, firm presence behind him, but he’ll make do.
It’s peaceful for a moment, the scent of lavender wafting up from the water, the quiet of the apartment interrupted a minute later by the shrill ringtone of his phone.
Blinking fast, Sky pulls his phone from the edge of the tub, fully intending to ignore it if it’s Rain calling to ask about assignments. But Prapai’s photo pops up and Sky accepts the call.
“My Sky,” Prapai greets him before he even says anything, and Sky smiles, putting on the speaker and setting the phone by his head.
“P’Pai,” he answers, “shouldn’t you be working?”
“I’ve got a break between now and dinner with one of the directors,” Prapai answers, and Sky has no idea what time it is there, so he accepts the answer. “What are you doing?”
Closing his eyes again, Sky sinks into the water, up to his chin. “Taking a bath.”
“Without me?” is Prapai’s immediate response, and Sky can practically see the pout, but then he pauses. “Are you at the apartment?”
“Mmm,” Sky hums in answer.
“You sound relaxed, baby,” Prapai says, and Sky doesn’t bother to argue. “Did you miss me? Is that why you went there?”
Opening his eyes, Sky glances at the phone, as if Prapai can see his unimpressed look. “It’s just quieter here than the dorm.”
“You aren’t planning on spending the night dreaming about me?” Prapai asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice. “If I was there, I could hold you until you fell asleep, and I could kiss you all over, and you’d tell me to stop but you wouldn’t mean it.”
It’s almost annoying how well Prapai knows him, but it also makes him smile despite himself. He’s just glad Prapai can’t see.
“You mean you’d keep me up half the night,” he says, drawing circles in the bubbles as Prapai sighs on the other end.
“You’re the one who keeps me up,” Prapai says, and Sky hopes to God he’s not somewhere public right now. “You’re doing it right now.”
“You better be alone,” Sky warns him, though he’s reasonably sure Prapai wouldn’t be saying this around a bunch of people. But he can never be a hundred percent sure. Of Prapai’s quirks, this one has to be the worst.
“I bet I could make you come from here,” Prapai says without acknowledging Sky’s warning, his breathing heavier in the phone, and Sky licks his lips.
He could give Prapai what he wants, play into his phone sex fantasies, but it’s more fun not to.
“Even you’re not that good,” he teases instead, but he lets his hand slip down his chest, fingers rubbing over a nipple. He’ll never tell Prapai he does, careful to keep his breathing measured as he listens to Prapai groan.
“Don’t listen to him, Pai Jr. We both know what you’re capable of.”
Shaking his head, Sky doesn’t answer. He’s sure Prapai is sitting in his hotel room, zipper undone, boxers bunched around his thighs, talking to his dick as if it needs reassurance from Sky’s harsh words. Like he needs it. Prapai is the most confident person Sky has ever met. His unfortunate habit of speaking to his own provenance merely adds to it.
“You’ll just have to wait until you get back,” Sky says after a minute, listening to Prapai’s breath on the other end, how it gets heavier with each passing second. A thrill runs through his stomach and his own hand slips underneath the bubbles finally.
“Will you be in the apartment when I get back?” Prapai asks, a harsh breath in the receiver, and Sky smiles.
“If you’re good.”
“I’m good,” Prapai assures him swiftly, and Sky reaches for the phone, shaking the water off his hands as he brings it to his mouth.
“Then be good,” he says softly. “Good night, P’Pai.”
“Sky—” is all he hears before he ends the call and sets the phone aside.
Sliding back down, he stretches his neck back and pushes his hand under the water to finish what Prapai started. Prapai may have to wait, but he doesn’t.
He does wish Prapai was there as he bites his lip and closes his eyes, but he’ll take the assurance that Prapai will spend the rest of his evening thinking of him, will probably jerk himself off like Sky is doing, and then he’ll pat his dick and call it a good boy in a way that always makes Sky cringe.
But it also makes him smile a little, at how stupid it is, how unembarrassed Prapai is about it. If he could be so confident in his flaws, maybe he wouldn’t be so worried about the future. Shaking away the thought, he focuses instead on the warmth of the water enveloping him, the press of his hand, the all-encompassing pleasure that ripples through him as he sighs and all his thoughts slip away.
*
Sky can still feel the stretch of Prapai inside him as he stands in front of the mirror and reaches for a towel to wipe the come off his stomach.
Prapai hadn’t made it two steps in the front door before sweeping Sky off the chair and whisking him into the bedroom. From there, it had only been a matter of clothes scattered on the floor, the flump of the comforter as Sky landed on his back. He wasn’t entirely surprised by Prapai’s vigor, his enthusiasm at getting his legs up over his shoulders and pressing inside him.
It has been almost a week since they’d seen each other after all, and Sky had promised him a reward if he was good.
The moment was all too brief, from the second Prapai pushed his fingers inside, slick with lube, to his sharp gasp and tremble as Prapai came, almost too quickly. Sky isn’t particularly disappointed, his body throbbing as he carefully cleans himself up and takes in his mussed appearance in the mirror—cheeks red, teeth marks bruising his lip. There’ll be plenty of time for another go-around.
Splashing water on his face, he rinses the towel and turns back to the bedroom. He left Prapai lying on the bed, a forlorn sort of expression on his face, as if disappointed in himself.
“… Not your fault,” he hears as he steps around the corner of the bathroom and into Prapai’s rather large bedroom, with its grand windows and billowy white curtains that fall all the way to the floor. Is Prapai talking to him? What’s not his fault? “It’s been a couple weeks and you’re not used to going that long.”
Sky knows it before he even sees, catching Prapai sitting up against the headboard, a plaintive expression as he gazes at his cock, still on full display without any clothes on. It’s soft now, not nearly as impressive as it is when Sky gets his hands on it, but the tip still has a hint of blush in it, as though it could rise to the occasion at any moment.
“Are you giving yourself a pep talk?” Sky asks as he crawls onto the bed besides Prapai and hands him the towel.
“I can do better,” Prapai assures him, ignoring the towel and pulling Sky to him instead. He gets his hands around Sky’s waist, jostling him into his lap so he can press a kiss to his neck. “I just missed you too much.”
Sky closes his eyes as Prapai’s lips brush over his throat, across his Adam’s apple, down to his collarbone. He’s not worried about Prapai’s performance—they’ve gone much longer before. One time doesn’t make any difference. And he’s missed Prapai too, needed it just like this. He wouldn’t have been content with waiting for anything else.
“You do it fine,” he breathes, pushing a hand into Prapai’s hair, guiding his mouth further down his chest.
Sky has never seen Prapai doubtful about his abilities—overconfident even at the start—and Sky has never worried about it. But he can feel the hesitancy as Prapai turns his face up towards his, and he pauses. It’s never occurred to him that Prapai might need reassurance too.
Sky is usually the one that has to be reminded how much Prapai loves him, that he’d do anything for him, and Prapai is happy to do it. Prapai does it without him even asking (not that Sky would ask but still). Maybe Prapai needs some of that too.
“This is exactly how I wanted it,” he says, leaning into Prapai, kissing him in a way that makes his heart ache. “You’re exactly what I want.”
He feels Prapai’s smile against his lips, his exhale as if reassured.
“You don’t need to give your little Pai pep talks,” Sky says, despite himself, rolling his eyes as he says it.
“He’s not little,” Prapai argues, almost insulted, as Sky pulls away.
Sky just laughs at the indignant look on Prapai’s face, the sulk at the corner of his mouth. Prapai doesn’t have many buttons to push, always unfailingly in Sky’s corner, but this is one area Sky has the upper hand.
“Don’t call it little!” Prapai says, eyes wide, watching Sky lean over him. “Pai Jr is a giant.”
Sky ignores him, pressing a kiss to his neck, hearing the way Prapai huffs in response. It makes him smile.
“So you missed me?” he asks instead, licking up to Prapai’s ear, knowing it will drive him crazy. He’s right as Prapai shifts underneath him and takes a breath.
“I always miss you, baby,” Prapai says, only slightly pouty as if he hasn’t forgotten the ‘little’ comment quite so soon. “I wish you were here all the time so I’d never have to.”
Sky pauses, lips pressed against Prapai’s jaw, breathing in the scent of his skin—familiar and unfamiliar at the same time with hotel soaps lingering there.
“What if I annoy you?” Sky asks, almost afraid to say it, keeps his mouth against Prapai’s skin so the words come out muffled. The last thing he wants to be to Prapai is a burden.
He hears Prapai’s tiny huff, almost a laugh. “What if I annoy you?” he asks in return, gentle hands stroking down his back.
Prapai does annoy him, he thinks, sometimes. With his insistence on taking care of Sky when he doesn’t ask for it, keeping too close at races like he needs to be protected, showing up at school on his motorcycle just so everyone will know Sky is taken. All of those things annoy Sky at times, but he doesn’t love Prapai any less. In fact, he loves him more for all of those things. He doesn’t even love him less for talking to his penis, and that’s saying something.
He’s never thought of it that way, and it makes Sky pause, sitting back in Prapai’s lap, unsure how to answer.
He blinks when Prapai’s fingers brush over his cheek, drawing his attention back.
“I love you, no matter what,” Prapai says easily, eyes sincere as he gazes at Sky, and Sky’s stomach does a little flip, just like the first time Prapai had said it.
Sky hugs him without a word this time, wrapping his arms around Prapai’s shoulders and holding on tightly. He feels Prapai’s arms circle his waist and squeeze him carefully, securely, keeping hold until Sky is ready to let go.
He doesn’t know what to say—Prapai is always better at that—so he curls into Prapai, chest to chest, tucking his chin in Prapai’s shoulder and letting go of the fear knotted up in his chest.
They can’t stay like this forever, even with Prapai’s hands stroking his back, soothing and soft, and Sky shifts back a bit, enough to get his forehead pressed to Prapai’s. He may not know what to say but he knows what to do as he settles in Prapai’s lap thigh to thigh, skin to skin, and Prapai’s eyes flutter shut.
“Why don’t you show me how big it can be?” he asks after a second, watching Prapai’s lips part at the roll of his hips, his eyes opening again slowly and focusing on Sky’s.
A satisfied smile grows on Sky’s face when Prapai flips them around a minute later and pins his hands to the mattress. Where words fail him, his body never does. And he’s confident Prapai’s won’t either.
*
Sky watches the numbers on the elevator climbing higher and he bites back his smile at Prapai draped over his back, hands clinging to his stomach. He's only going up "just for a minute" like Prapai had insisted after lunch before he has to get back to school and work on his internship applications.
"Are you coming over after class?" Prapai asks, a murmur in his ear as the elevator rises, barely noticeable. He can see Prapai's reflection in the mirrored surface of the door, wavy and fuzzy.
"Not if you don't want me to," Sky says, smiling when Prapai immediately shakes his head.
"I want you to," he answers, squeezing him tighter. "But you've stayed over almost every night this week. You're sure you're not too busy?"
Sky pauses, watching the numbers grow on the screen. They're almost to Prapai's floor.
"Are you complaining?" he asks. He knows Prapai isn't, even without his swift, "No!" It is true he's stayed over more than normal lately, let Prapai talk him into it without much fuss. The separation that exists between Prapai's apartment and his dorm is getting thinner, and Sky minds less and less.
"You always say I'm distracting you when you work at my place," Prapai says, allowing Sky to brush his hands away from his stomach as the elevator dings and the doors slide open, straightening up.
Sky ignores how Prapai fixes his jacket as they step out. "Because you are. Have you ever gone more than five minutes without trying to touch me?" He says it as though it's annoying, but that's not exactly true.
"I could stop," Prapai says as they reach his office, and he grins at Sky's expression. "But you wouldn't want me to."
Sky rolls his eyes but he doesn't argue. He follows Prapai inside even though he doesn't really have time to stay, only came up because Prapai had given him those sad puppy dog eyes as if Sky staying over every night was just not enough time together. As if he needs these extra few minutes before Sky has to leave again.
"Good, you're back." Namtan appears in the doorway a second later, before Prapai can even attempt to close the door and get in a few last touches. He doesn't look particularly pleased at her interruption. "Your father wants an update on the Kunkrit project, and Sky, I need to know your preferences for dinner on Saturday."
"Dinner?" Sky repeats, confused. His only dinner plan for Saturday includes a short walk down to the dumpling place on the corner.
Namtan turns her long-suffering expression to Prapai and his grimace. "You forgot to ask him."
"I was going to," Prapai argues simply, "but I--"
"Got distracted," Namtan finishes, not even bothering to sigh. "By Sky."
"What dinner?" Sky asks again, looking between them. He hasn't been invited to anything that he's aware of.
"The annual shareholder dinner," Namtan explains finally, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's a chance for select shareholders to meet with the company executives."
"It's boring and long and I always get stuck at the far end of the table with the guys who want to talk about stocks," Prapai says, making a face. But he brightens when he looks at Sky. "But this year, father said I could bring you."
Sky has been to company-related events before, but they've mostly been cocktail parties. He's not sure how much use he'd be at any other event.
"I think he's hoping you'll keep him from falling asleep in his soup like last year," Namtan says primly.
"I wasn't asleep," Prapai says pointedly. "I was trying to drown myself. You try listening to Mr. Theeranpak drone on about financials for two hours."
"Well, maybe Sky can keep you breathing," Namtan says, clearly unimpressed, turning to Sky. "It's Saturday at eight at the Palace Hotel's gala room. Don't let P'Pai tell you it's tie optional. It's not."
Prapai just tosses Namtan a fake smile, reaching over and pulling Sky to him. "Sky looks good with or without a tie."
Namtan ignores him, scribbling something on her notepad. "Ties, both of you," is all she says before she leaves the office.
"You don't have to go," Prapai says the minute she's gone, taking Sky's hand. "It's boring for me. It might be excruciating for you."
Sky knows Prapai is giving him an out, trying to spare him an evening of business talk, of repetitive questions about school and his plans and how long he and Prapai have been together. But he doesn't mind. He doesn't mind a lot of things when it comes to Prapai, and that's what makes him smile and extricate his hand from Prapai's so he can pat his cheek.
"P'Tan says I have to keep you awake," he says seriously. "So I'll do my best."
Prapai almost looks relieved, glad at his answer, pulling Sky closer, hands around his waist. "Okay, but you don't have to dress up."
Sky smiles, but he doesn't bother correcting him. They'll both be wearing ties, no matter what Prapai says.
*
Despite his forcibly pleasant smile, Prapai can’t hide how painfully bored he is to Sky. He knows what Prapai looks like when he cares about what’s being said, and it isn’t the glazed look in his eye as the man he’s speaking to starts in on the last quarter earnings.
Dinner hasn’t started yet, cocktails flowing freely, although it doesn’t seem to be making a difference as Prapai nods along with the guy. Glancing at his own glass, Sky finds it empty. He honestly has no idea what half of these conversations are about and he’s beginning to understand what Prapai had meant by excruciating.
But Prapai looks exceptionally handsome tonight with his hair swept back gracefully, a midnight blue tie tied in a fancy knot. There’s a tiny crease between his eyebrows as the man speaks, tension to the edge of his smile, and Sky can’t help but smile, raising a hand to hide it as Prapai glances at him.
“Sky, your glass is empty,” Prapai says suddenly, interrupting the man’s rundown of quarter over quarter earnings. “You’ll have to excuse me, khun Sombat.”
“I don’t need another drink,” Sky says, smirking at the way Prapai bustles him away from the man, how he lets out an audible sigh once they’re out of earshot.
“I do,” Prapai replies, signaling to the bartender and running a hand through his hair, leaving it messy.
“Careful,” Sky says, reaching up to fix it, brushing the strands behind his ear, catching Prapai watching him warmly. “What?”
“We could just sneak out the side door,” Prapai says, leaning into Sky’s touch. “There’s got to be a room with velvet walls and a thick soundproof door somewhere in this place.”
Sky isn’t surprised that’s what Prapai is thinking of. He’d caught him checking him out earlier in the car, not that Prapai bothers to hide it. He’s more surprised it’s taken half an hour for him to bring it up.
Shaking his head, he takes his hands back and straightens Prapai’s lapel instead. “That’s not what P’Tan meant by ‘keep him awake.’”
“She’s not here,” Prapai mutters, as if that makes any difference. Before he can try whatever he’s thinking to change Sky’s mind, a man steps up to them.
“Prapai!” he greets him jovially, as if they’re well acquainted. “I knew I’d find you by the bar. I hope you’re leaving some for the rest of us.”
The man is a bit too old to be hitting on Prapai, with greying stubble and a paunch to his stomach even underneath his expensive suit, Sky thinks, a frown creasing his eyebrows as the man laughs at his own joke.
Prapai smiles politely at him. “I’m leaving all the whisky for you.” The man laughs even more at that, and Sky looks up sharply as Prapai slides an arm around his waist. “Sky, this is khun Chaidee. He’s an old friend of my father. Sky’s my boyfriend, khun Chaidee.”
Sky feels a little bit stupid as he bows his head quickly. He should know better by now not to be jealous of strangers. Prapai is too much like a friendly puppy, willing to be nice to everyone.
“So the rumors are true,” Chaidee says, eyeing Sky approvingly. “When your father said you finally settled down, I didn’t believe it.” He laughs and claps Prapai on the shoulder before turning to Sky. “So when are you going to make an honest man of our Prapai?”
“He can anytime he wants,” Prapai answers for him, a fond look on his face, “but he’s not ready.”
Sky gazes at Prapai, the easy way he smiles, as if it doesn’t bother him at all, when Sky can count how many times Prapai has brought it up. Living together, marriage, the rest of their future. Infinitely patient is the word that comes to mind.
“What could hold him back?” khun Chaidee exclaims. “Handsome, smart, heir to your father’s empire. You’ve had the girls after you your whole life.”
Chaidee seems to be waiting for an answer from Sky, but Sky doesn’t have one. Prapai is so much more than just smart and handsome, and Sky has been letting his fears get in the way of them moving forward.
“Sky has the highest standards,” Prapai says, stepping in when Sky doesn’t answer, probably trying to take the focus off him. “I still have a long way to go.” He says it like a joke, with a smile. He looks around the room, and Sky notices that people have begun moving toward the long table, taking their seats. “Looks like dinner is about to start. Always nice to see you, khun Chaidee.”
Sky lets Prapai steer him away after a polite goodbye, hand firm on his lower back.
“You don’t,” Sky says as Prapai guides them to a pair of seats at the end of the table.
“Don’t what?” Prapai pulls Sky’s chair out without asking, and Sky turns to him instead.
Gazing at Prapai, he gets the sudden urge to take his face in his hands and pull him close, to assure him that he doesn’t need to make jokes about not being good enough.
He doesn’t, though, reaching up to smooth down Prapai’s tie instead. “Have a long way to go.”
Prapai’s eyebrows rise slightly, surprised, and a smile curls his lips. He doesn’t say anything, though, waiting for Sky to sit down before joining him.
*
The food is good but it can’t quite make up for the company. Sky can’t believe someone could talk so long about stock price fluctuations and market prediction without being interrupted or running out of words. But the man across the table from them has managed it.
If the way Prapai has been absently playing with Sky’s fingers under the table is any indication, he hasn’t been listening for the last twenty minutes even though his gaze is intent on the man.
Prapai has been surprisingly good at feigning interest tonight, but Sky knows it’s waning as the next course comes and the man talking barely breaks his stride. The other people seated around them have moved on to separate conversations, and Sky isn’t sure the man even cares that no one is listening.
Extricating his fingers from Prapai’s, Sky doesn’t reach for his utensils, setting his hand gently on Prapai’s leg instead.
Prapai doesn’t seem to notice, hiding a yawn behind his glass. The table they’re at is long, stretches almost the entire length of the room. It’s laden with crystal glasses and bright porcelain dishes, ornate flower arrangements every five feet. Sky has been introduced here and there to different people, but he’s already forgotten their names. Prapai’s father is somewhere, hidden from view, probably surrounded by the most important shareholders while Prapai is assigned the ones who have never been told to stop talking.
He understands now why Namtan accused Prapai of falling asleep at last year’s.
Glancing around at the people around them, all very clearly ignoring both them, and the man still droning on, his gaze flicks to his hand on Prapai’s leg. He did promise to keep Prapai alert after all.
He reaches for his glass, taking a sip and waiting for Prapai to react as his fingers tiptoe along the inseam of his trousers, stroking gently, almost absently. He’s acutely aware of the many people around them, but he can be discreet.
Prapai, on the other hand, blinks hard, a curious tilt to his head. But he doesn’t look down, glancing at Sky instead.
Sky doesn’t acknowledge him, pushing the food around on his plate as his hand creeps over Prapai’s thigh, into the warmth between his legs. Prapai’s leg twitches in response and they open for Sky, a less than subtle invitation to continue.
Prapai has been so good lately, so patient with him, so ready to accept whatever he’s willing to give. Sky doesn’t always reciprocate the way a normal person would, holding out where he shouldn’t and making Prapai work harder. He doesn’t have to, he reminds himself, sliding his hand into Prapai’s lap and pressing down.
He hears Prapai’s breath, the briefest inhale beside him, but more than that, he feels Prapai growing under the slow massage of his palm. He doesn’t go fast, careful to keep his movements minimal, his pulse noticeable in his throat.
But no one is really paying attention to them, between the food and the conversations going around them. Not even the guy still going on about market rates, as if his own voice is entertaining enough for him. Still, no one can know that the heel of his hand presses into the bulge under Prapai’s trousers, that his fingers dig in around him and Prapai swallows hard.
“Calm down,” he hisses through clenched teeth, barely audible over the conversations, but Sky can hear clearly.
When he chances a glance, surreptitious, he doesn’t find Prapai looking at him, hands clenched around his utensils on the table instead. When he does speak, it’s to the table, a hushed whisper.
“Don’t do this,” he says, shaking his head, and it’s not to Sky. Sky takes the moment to squeeze, Prapai rising in his hand, a warm pulse. He enjoys the way Prapai takes a breath and lifts his chin in an attempt to act cool. There are way too many people to give away the game. “Stay down,” he breathes, jerking and smacking into his plate with a spoon a second later as Sky tightens his grip.
Sky almost laughs, ducking his head to hide it. Prapai can barely hold on on a normal day when he doesn’t need to be quiet and appear normal. He usually spends the whole time whining when Sky tells him he can’t react, never seems to succeed. And he’s not succeeding now.
“Khun Prapai, are you alright?” The woman across the table looks concerned as Prapai preens slightly, to distract from the red tinge Sky can see on the back of his neck.
“Fine, fine,” Prapai assures her with a swift smile, but his eyes dart to Sky. It’s not a warning there, not like the one he just gave his dick in front of everyone.
“Your face is red,” she goes on, and Prapai reaches for his glass of water and takes a large gulp.
Sky hasn’t moved his hand, startled by the sudden attention, pulse thudding in his throat, but Prapai is good at brushing people away, taking the attention off of them.
“Just got a pepper in that last bite,” he explains, and he shifts just a little, giving Sky’s hand more space.
Sky doesn’t need more space, palming down when the woman’s eyes move off them. Prapai does better this time, only taking a second to lick his lips and lean into Sky’s ear.
“What are you doing, Sky?” he asks, voice more desperate than a second ago, talking to that woman.
Checking that no one is listening--the man who hasn’t stopped talking about the market now has the unfortunate ear of the man sitting next to him instead--Sky leans in too, letting his fingers wrap around Prapai’s hardening dick in his dress pants.
“Keeping you breathing,” Sky whispers back, like it’s obvious, and he can’t help but smile when Prapai shoots him a pleading look.
“That is not what’s happening here.”
Sky pauses, contemplating his next move. “You’re right,” he says after a second, pulling his hand away despite Prapai’s confused noise. “I’m not helping. We should be talking to the guests.”
“No,” Prapai says sharply, as if he can’t stop himself, and he swallows hard as he gazes at Sky. Sky’s been on the receiving end of that look before and it usually leads to spine-tingling sex, hot and heavy and hard. He feels the first shiver crawl down his spine as Prapai takes a forcefully calming breath. They can’t do anything here, not with so many people, so many important people, but later. Later, they can do whatever they want.
“A few more courses,” Sky tells him, straightening up, a sudden flush on his skin as Prapai gazes at him.
Prapai doesn’t respond to that, turning back to his uneaten meal, but Sky hears him whisper to himself a second later.
“You can do it, my son. Be strong.”
Biting back his smile, Sky just reaches for his napkin. Maybe it’s not always a bad thing when Prapai talks to himself.
*
“Are you gonna torture me all night?” Prapai asks, attaching himself to Sky the minute they step through the apartment door. He’s been careful not to cling, only going so far as to link his fingers with Sky’s since they stepped out of the car and into the lobby. Now, he’s got Sky pulled to his side, a strong hand on the small of his back, the other detaching from his fingers to graze over his arms, leaving his hair standing on end.
He won’t admit it to Prapai, but he’s been waiting for the last few hours to get here, this close, finally alone. But it’s not just for the way Prapai’s body feels against his—firm and sturdy and warm to the touch as he lets his hands rest against his chest. It’s not just for the way Prapai gazes at him, heated and wanting, lingering on his lips.
It’s how Prapai waits for his answer, always waiting for him to say yes. It’s how he won’t do anything Sky doesn’t want him to, won’t push too hard except where he needs to, always lets Sky lead their relationship.
“No,” Sky says finally, dislodging Prapai’s hand from his back and curling his fingers around his wrist instead. “The torture’s over.”
He hears Prapai’s whimper even as he turns, leading the way to Prapai’s bedroom.
Sky turns on the lamp by the bed, casting a soft golden glow over the bed as he sits down and waits for Prapai to join him. Scooting back, he beckons Prapai over him, reaching for his tie and tugging him closer. Prapai goes without question, so obviously eager that it makes Sky smile.
“P’Pai?” he says as his back hits the pillows and Prapai shoves the others out of the way so he can brace himself on the mattress and lean over Sky.
Prapai’s eyes are grazing down Sky’s body when he says it, as if imagining each part without clothes, and he hums in response to Sky’s question.
“Can we get a plant?”
Prapai’s gaze flicks up at the question, so out of the blue, so unrelated to what they’re about to do, but Sky wants an answer.
“What?” Prapai asks, eyebrows furrowed as if confused.
Leaning into his face, Sky takes his cheeks in his hands, a feeling of calm settling over him the same way it had the first time Prapai had brought him to his home, the first time Prapai had told him he loved him, the first time Prapai had showed up at school and taken his hand in front of everyone.
“When I move in,” he says slowly, carefully to make sure Prapai is listening, “can we get a plant?”
Prapai blinks, and Sky’s not sure if he’s stunned or if he hasn’t processed what he said. But then there’s a twitch in Prapai’s brow, recognition.
“When?” He seems like maybe he doesn’t believe it, what Sky is insinuating. He looks up, hopeful, and Sky could swear there are tears in his eyes, a hint of gloss as he stares.
It’s not a question of if—it never has been, Sky realizes as he smiles at Prapai. It’s always been when. And that time is now.
“I was thinking after school ends, so I can get everything wrapped up.”
“Yes,” Prapai says in a rush, before Sky even finishes his sentence, pressing closer to kiss him, once, twice, three times as Sky starts to laugh, letting the giddy feeling take over. “Yes, we can get as many plants as you want! A whole jungle.”
“I don’t need that many,” Sky says, fond, stomach filled with fluttering as Prapai kisses him again, pulling back to stare at him with big, round eyes, brimming with love that would have once filled Sky with fear. But now it makes him feel warm and safe, safe enough to kiss Prapai back, slow and intentional.
It’s the glisten in Prapai’s eye that makes him smile, push him over onto his back and climb into his lap.
He kisses Prapai one more time, leans his whole body into him and opens his mouth for Prapai, following the sweep of his tongue, the tilt of his head to get him closer. Prapai’s hands graze up his neck to grip a little tighter than normal, like he still can’t quite believe it.
But it’s time. Sky has been holding back for too long, waiting for Prapai to disappoint him, waiting for something to go wrong, but he doesn’t want to expect the worst anymore. Maybe Prapai will get annoyed at some of his habits, but he’ll get annoyed at Prapai’s too. Neither of them is perfect and he wouldn’t want Prapai to be.
“The day after you finish school?” Prapai asks when they break apart and Sky nods, pulling Prapai’s hands from his neck and holding them in his lap instead.
“You can schedule the movers.”
He knows Prapai will do it first thing in the morning. For now, though, Sky has other plans.
“So,” he says after a second, settling in Prapai’s lap and gently tugging his tie apart. “You want to have some fun?”
“Yes,” Prapai breathes obediently, but Sky pauses, glancing up.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Prapai pauses too, eyebrows furrowed. “Then who were you—” His eyes go wide, and Sky can’t help the smirk that crawls onto his face when he glances down, when Prapai realizes. “Oh.”
Sliding his hand down, Sky tilts his head. “Do your best, Pai Jr.”
His laugh gets cut-off by Prapai’s mouth, a burning kiss he can feel all the way to his toes, and he gives it right back, wrapping himself up in Prapai and giving in to the heat. As Prapai pulls him in closer, drags their bodies together, he smiles into his kisses. They’re not so bad, Prapai’s quirks, and he’s pretty sure he can learn to live with them.
*
FIN.