Work Text:
Tongrak sighs contentedly, his whole body relaxing into the sheets. He’s been well and truly fucked, too tired to even lift a single finger.
Next to him he feels Mahasamut shifting, their arms are still brushing, his hand twitching as if getting ready to wrap around him. He’s probably waiting just for that, to curl his body towards Rak and bury his nose in the back of his neck. Maybe he wants to tease his teeth over the side of his neck. Rak barely holds back a scoff.
Of course, he should have expected it. Despite being uprooted years ago the stereotypical gender roles still linger in people’s minds. In the countryside even more so than in the city where a more modern view has set in.
“Get up if you’re done.”
Mahasamut pouts. He can tell from his voice, even though he can’t see. “Do I have to leave now?”
He’s trying to delay it, and Rak knows before he can see he will push even closer, will demand—
Tongrak grits his teeth and takes a calming breath, focuses. He hasn’t done it in a while, doesn’t have to when he usually tries to only get it on with betas. There is no need for it, but Mahasamut isn’t a beta. And he hasn’t forgotten how to do it.
He turns, facing Mahasamut, whose eyes light up, a silly smile drawing on his lips, still kiss-swollen. Rak tangles his fingers around the warm hand Mahasamut has sneaked on his chest, finding the scent gland easily, thumb rubbing over it on instinct.
“Don’t you want to get up and leave?” he asks, gliding his hand higher up Mahasamut’s arm, spreading his own scent farther over his skin.
Tongrak is used to eyes glazing over, relaxed smiles and softly mumbled agreements. It’s easy once the scent has reached the alphas nose. They turn into pudding with Rak’s scent, amenable to whatever he suggests. But Mahasamut doesn’t. As if to spite him his body freezes, eyes almost sharpening, as he watches him. For a second Rak thinks Mahasamut is going to pull him closer, denying him the suggestion instead of obeying him.
And Tongrak doesn’t know what to do should that happen. After all, it's never happened before. His fingers are still on Mahasamut’s skin, drawing idle circles as if the both of them aren’t at a stalemate.
Then, almost forcefully, Mahasamut pulls back. Rak glimpses a bitter smile, but in the course of seconds it’s gone, replaced with disappointment that shouldn’t sting as much as it does.
“Don’t worry,” Mahasamut says. “I hear you. I’ll let you get back to your work.”
And that isn’t right either. Although he’s glad that Mahasamut is leaving, this is all wrong.
He turns his back towards Mahasamut and hugs the pillow close to his chest. Despite the weird situation he still allows himself the relieved sigh escaping his lungs when he hears Mahasamut get dressed. Rak listens to the rustling of the clothes, the shifting of Mahasamut’s body. When he hears the bed squeak he thinks he can feel the ghost of a breath. He doesn’t allow himself to move, to even admit the tiniest piece of weakness in front of him. But then the bed squeaks again and the mattress lifts with the loss of Mahasamut’s weight on him.
Then there are quiet footsteps.
The door shuts.
Rak is alone, as he was before.