Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Don’t thank me yet. Because tonight, I’m collecting my reward.”

Maybe the prospect excites Tan a little too much.

But honestly, how can it not? After all, he and Nut did go... a little crazy, so to speak, during the term break.

With no work to do, extracurricular activities to plan, exams or projects to grade... really, was there anything else for them to do except laze around Nut’s apartment (Tan has spent so much tim there lately, more than at his own place, and Nut has already made some space in his drawers for Tan’s clothes—the pace they’re moving at might be a little fast, but if they’re both comfortable with it, what’s the harm in it, right?), watch TV, go on dates and makeout sessions on the couch that evolve into something else in a matter of minutes? Especially for someone like him, who hasn’t gotten any action in so long? Yeah, that’s what Tan thought.

Now, in all transparency, Tan had thought about... this. Nut. In a sexual context, to be more specific—but he isn’t a pervert either! He thought about Nut in many other ways, too. That’s kinda what clued him in on his actual feelings for his new coworker. Tan used to think he simply couldn’t stop thinking about Nut because he waltzed in one day and stole what little peace and quiet he had at his office—and yeah, because he is insanely hot, that too.

In any case...

Tan is a math teacher. And this one is an easy estimate to make: insanely hot boyfriend, plus home alone, plus nothing else to do... One and one equals two.

So what if he is a little excited, maybe even overeager for work to be over for the day so they can go home and Nut can ‘collect his reward’? Anyone would be in his place! Especially if they had had the crazy term break they have.

(Tan may be a little too proud of it but, according to himself at least, he has every right to be.)

The first thing Tan noticed about Nut... were his eyes.

Yeah, okay, bad way to start.

To be fair, Nut’s got pretty eyes. Sharp, dark, long lashes, scrunch up when he smiles. It’s really hard to make eye contact, because Tan always feels like he’ll lose track of time if he stares into them for too long. Giving Nut that much leverage over him so early would’ve been dangerous. Now that they are dating though—

But back to what Tan was attempting to get at... The second thing he noticed about Nut was...

It was actually that he seemed very level-headed.

Yet another bad way to start, but let him do his thing. Tan swears he’s trying to get somewhere with this.

Nut was unlike anything that had ever walked into that faculty room. Willing to raise his hand and voice a dissenting opinion. Not afraid of any counter-arguments that might arise, and even being prepared for them, to defend what he believed to be the best for the students. Tan didn’t think much of him at first, thought he was just another one of those guys trying to desperately fit in on a new environment—only to immediately go and destroy all of Tan’s preconceived ideas with a single sentence. And, admittedly, that piqued Tan’s interest. The rest, as they say, is history.

Now that that is out of the way...

The third thing Tan noticed about Nut (and they do say third time’s the charm) was that he has a body.

No, no, listen. Of course he has a body. Everyone has one; Tan has one, Nut has one, every teacher and student has one.

The simple, yet important nuance, is that Nut not only has a body, but a body. Like, the type of body that turns people into believers because only some higher being up in the sky could come up with a lethal weapon of that caliber.

It certainly doesn’t help that Nut likes wearing tight shirts. As in, tight. As in, tight enough that Tan can make out every curve in his torso—maybe with the exception of the dips and climbs of his abs. Not that Tun cares for those much: all his attention was on Nut’s arms. Yeah, the arms. The arms... and something else.

But let’s start with the arms, cause Tan feels like he’s gonna go clinically insane one of these days and it’ll all be Nut’s fault. Nut and his damn arms.

This man does not own a single non-tight shirt. Either that or he knows the effect those thick damn arms have on Tan and he likes seeing him choke on his spit when Nut catches him boring holes into his biceps.

But like, in Tan’s defense... has anyone seen those?

And to make matters worse, he has a goddamn tattoo in there. Eight phases of the moon, more like eight stages of grief that Tan goes through every time he catches glimpse of that stupid ink—the extra three being ‘resignation’, ‘jacking off about it’ and ‘doing it all over again’ respectively.

That’s not even the worst of it. If it was, then Tan would, at least, have some chance of survival.

Hell, it’s not even the thighs that get him, and those are dangerous in their own right. Even when the pants are not particularly tight, Nut just—man, he fills those up so damn nicely. Sometimes Tan is afraid the fabric will rip when Nut sits down, because then his own personal hell will get a thousand times worse. Those white dress pants in particular make Nut’s thighs and ass look great, and he must know that since he’s starting to wear them a lot more often. Or, again, it could be that he’s taken note of the way it affects Tan, and Nut is a cruel, cruel person if that’s the case.

But anyway, now that Tan has mentioned it... Nut’s ass.

Yet another incredibly dangerous thing. Really, Tan feels a little ridiculous when putting on a show, leaning forward on Nut’s desk and arching his back when he’s rather flat himself and Nut—well, Nut is built like that. Nut still seems particularly fixated on Tan’s ass though, and he doesn’t think he will ever understand why, but hey, Tan likes the attention he gets.

And Nut’s hands do give a good smack. But those hands are a topic for another day.

He hasn’t gotten brave enough to smack Nut’s ass back because, in all honesty, Tan does not feel like he’ll survive it. Genuinely. He’ll probably just melt into a puddle or spontaneously combust. Maybe both, if that’s even a thing that can happen. He wouldn’t know; being good at math doesn’t automatically make you a scientist, does it?

What Tan has done is start to walk behind Nut a lot more often so he can get his fill. Maybe Nut suspects something, or maybe he’s none the wiser. In any case, he hasn’t voiced any complaints, so there’s room to argue that he likes being ogled by Tan, in which case—well, what can he do but comply, right?

But even after all that, even after Tan has been rambling about his boyfriend’s (and holy shit, how did Tan even manage to land that, exactly?) body for so long... there is something somehow worse than all of that combined.

Nut’s chest.

It’s not that Tan didn’t, at least, suspect Nut was built very well under those polo shirts. He just didn’t realize that having all that be his would be so... overwhelming. In a positive way.

But see things from Tan’s perspective for a second: single for nearly his whole life except for a few quick hook-ups and short-lived relationships here and there, and when he gets his first stable boyfriend, it’s Nut? Forgive him if he can’t quite wrap his head around that still. Forgive him for freezing up like a deer in the headlights when he realizes that he’s got all that body for himself to do with as he pleases (so long as Nut consents to it, of course).

Nut’s got all those... assets. It’s a whole thing and it’s all equally as dangerous. But if Tan had to give any of them a personal, number-one ranking as ‘the one thing that will surely be his demise one day’? Nut’s chest. Absolutely. No doubt in his mind.

He’s just happy that they didn’t go swimming when they went on that trip to the beach. Else, Tan would have surely died, and then the school would be held legally responsible and Nut would probably get charged with something.

Just because he got away once doesn’t mean that’s still the case though.

For starters, the first habit of Nut’s that Tan noticed when he first spent the night over at Nut’s place... is his dislike for shirts.

Personally, Tan believes cooking with no shirt on is an unnecessary risk to take. What if the oil jumps? What if Nut gets dirty with fish guts? Surely that would be painful and gross, right? Nut doesn’t seem to think so—he keeps on doing it: as soon as he steps inside his house, the shirt is off and Tan’s eyes pop out of its sockets. Honestly, he is dating the guy and that’s how he reacts when Nut shows off? More likely than anybody thinks, actually.

Anyway, Tan has never voiced a complaint about the shirtless-ness, nor will he ever. He knows that, if he told Nut it makes him uncomfortable or something along those lines, Nut would apologize and cover up immediately.

Thing is, is not so much that it makes Tan uncomfortable—it makes him horny.

Nut is not the kind of muscular that throws you off. He’s not emaciated, his ribs don’t show, he doesn’t look like he could shatter if Tan hugged him too tightly. He’s got just enough fat to make his sides squishy (and the line of his waist particularly enticing) and his pecs plump. No six pack, but who cares? Tan would take a nice pair of pecs over hard abs anyday.

And that’s how Tan found out he was a tits man.

Actually, no. There’s more to the story that he’s leaving out. On purpose, of course. Too embarrassing to recount, but he’ll try.

There is a reason—multiple reasons, more like, as to why Nut’s house has become the defacto place for them to spend the night.

First, because Tan realized just how much he didn’t like his own place; too messy, too full of things that reminded him of just how petty and miserable he used to be. From the first time he stepped into Nut’s house and all he could see was colorful, bright, organized, clean—it didn’t really matter that, in actuality, Nut’s place was smaller, Tan felt way more comfortable in it. Like that was always what ‘home’ was supposed to mean, and not Tan’s cold, empty apartment where no one was waiting for him with no shirt on and dinner on the stove.

Second, because the one time they did stay at Tan’s place was... not good. For Tan’s heart, that is.

It happened some time after their first date. They were still in the process of dropping honorifics and it was... weird, admittedly. ‘Mr. Tan’ this, ‘Mr. Nut’ that for months, it was bound to happen. But the road, however bumpy, is half the charm of the whole process.

Nut wasn’t exactly insistent, to be fair. Ever the gentleman, he is. He dropped Tan at his place after their first date and only stood there hoping to get a kiss before leaving (he did, duh, Tan isn’t stupid), and when Tan asked if he wanted to come in for coffee, Nut just smiled at him and told him to get some rest, that he wouldn’t want to keep Tan away from his bed for longer than necessary.

And honestly, Tan was exhausted: expensive freaking dinner, expensive freaking wine, then they walked around for over an hour or so, talking. To help the food go down. Nut did comment on Tan’s tipsy blush, and all Tan could think to do was point out that Nut, too, was blushing. Far from snapping back, Nut just smiled at him, all big and toothy and nose-scrunchy, and admitted it.

He still wouldn’t have minded having Nut over after that though. He wasn’t that tipsy anymore, plus the coffee would’ve helped.

Nut still said no. He was going to say no to staying after their second date. He was hesitant to agreeing to Tan’s proposal, Tan could tell. Ever the gentleman, again. He was probably going to put off spending the night together until like, their fifth date or something crazy like that. So Tan pulled the good ol’ “Please?”

Surprisingly? It worked.

Tan regretted it about an hour later.

He had told Nut to knock himself out and just pick any old shirt from Tan’s drawers, because Tan refused to let him sleep in street-clothes. So Nut did, then he went into the bathroom to take a shower.

It had been a while; the water stopped running about ten minutes ago, and Tan was still waiting in front of the locked bathroom door. Maybe he pressed his ear to it to eavesdrop, but all he could hear were some ‘Oh’s and ‘Ugh’s. Not exactly revealing.

“Everything alright?” He asked, knocking on the door.

“It doesn’t fit.”

Tan’s brain blanked out for a minute. Once the system finally relaunched, all he could muster was a, “... What do you mean?”

“I mean that it doesn’t fit.” Nut repeated, then clarified. “The shirt. It doesn’t fit me.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t fit you?”

It was so dumb, because Tan knew damn well what that meant. He just—didn’t think it was a possibility at all.

And then, Nut stepped out. And Tan was slapped in the face by the ‘possibility’ turned reality.

“Do you believe me now?”

He did. Nut tried to pull it down but the fabric wouldn’t go over his pecs. He didn’t dare stretch it too much, out of fear of ripping it maybe. Not that Tan was paying attention to that at the moment—he was too busy staring right into Nut’s nipples, feeling his face growing increasingly hotter and...

“... Seriously, Khun Tan?”

“Don’t call me that outside of school, I’m begging you.” Was the first thing that came out of Tan’s mouth. “You could... pick another one?”

Three shirts. Three damn shirts that did not fit Nut. Their size difference didn’t even look like that much. Tan thought at some point that Nut was picking the smaller ones on purpose, but even the fourth one, the chosen one, the little shirt that could and that looked baggy on Tan, was tight on Nut: his arms were prisoners on those sleeves, it hugged his waist and back like a second skin, the hem hovered just over Nut’s belly button and by God, those fucking pecs.

Tan didn’t get much sleep that night.

So yeah, forgive Tan if he doesn’t feel like experiencing that kind of hell again, to the point where he’s slowly moving out of his own apartment.

Somehow, seeing Nut shirtless is less dangerous for his mental health than seeing him in a tight shirt.

Doesn’t mean Tan doesn’t get distracted half the time and ends up looking down at Nut’s chest and misses the food on his plate entirely. More than once, he’s needed Nut to repeat what he just said because he was too occupied... admiring.

And see, Nut is smart. He picked up on Tan’s little ‘habit’ rather quickly, almost immediately after ‘the second date incident’.

Tan knows because he was told.

On the first day of term break, after Nut set the plate of Khanom Pang in front of him (and offered Tan a close-up of those magnificent assets) and took a seat on the opposite end of the table, Tan couldn’t even take a bite before Nut spoke.

“Are you ever going to say it out loud?”

Tan could only raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was his sleep-hazy brain, or the lack of context for that sentence, or a mix of both. In any case, he didn’t understand Nut’s cryptic message.

“What, that your cooking is good? Maybe let me take a bite first.”

“I’m not talking about that.” Nut shook his head, but that smile was there again. He likes it when Tan tries to be funny, he’s found, and what can Tan do but oblige? “I already know you like my cooking. You wouldn’t ask for seconds if you didn’t.”

Tan flashed him a huge smile.“Well, it is damn tasty food!” And to prove his point, he grabbed the toast from his plate and gave it a big bite.

Nut nodded, slowly. Then...

“I’m guessing the cook is also ‘damn tasty’?”

And that’s how Tan nearly died by choking of a home-cooked meal by his hot hunk of a boyfriend.

All in all, it wouldn’t have been the worst way to go. Thankfully though, Tan didn’t die. Still pretty damn close—and he kinda wished he had, at least, fallen unconscious when Nut started giving him a rundown of the situation.

“Tan,” He started, gentle. Ever the gentleman, has Tan said that? Even reached out to hold Tan’s hand and all. “I have noticed the way you look at me. It would be pretty hard not to notice, actually. I appreciate it, of course! But I do have to wonder...”

Nut leaned forward, over his own and Tan’s food, and Tan swears he was seconds away from a heart attack, and then his eyes couldn’t help but trail down to Nut’s chest again and...

“Why won’t you do anything about it?”

Would Nut want him to do something about it? Truth be told, Tan hadn’t thought about it that way. He just scolded himself for being horny because—because he thought it was what, too soon? He’s not a gentleman like Nut though. Tan was the one asking him to spend the night, after all. And he was having inappropriate thoughts about the man way before they were calling each other ‘boyfriend’. A few more months of regular sex and then, perhaps, Tan would’ve worked up the nerve to... do something. He doesn’t know what exactly, especially because now Nut has broken the mold and forced the conversation to happen now.

At any rate...

The conversation happened.

Initially, it was probably the most awkward situation Tan had had the displeasure of being involved in. Because how exactly do you tell your boyfriend that you are so obsessed with his pecs you’ve been thinking about ditching pillows altogether and just using those instead? And Nut knows how Tan gets when he’s nervous—he says way more than he means to, making a fool of himself in the process. Even if Nut kinda digs that, for some insane reason.

Just like he, for some equally as insane reason, laughs when Tan tells him all; Tan refuses to recollect any of it, erased everything from his memory as soon as the words were out, and all the proof of it that remained was Nut’s grin.

“What is so weird about finding your partner’s body attractive?”

“Well, I mean...” Tan gestured vaguely, in Nut’s general direction, trying to avoid the problem spot but not quite achieving it. “You’re hot. Like, very. Like, I still can’t believe that you’re real sometimes. But also, isn’t the chest a bit of a... weird thing to be obsessed with?”

“Obsessed, hm?” Nut teased, conveniently ignoring everything else before it. Tan had never wanted the ground to swallow him more than at that point. “But I don’t think it’s strange at all! Some people just like breasts—”

“Don’t call them that!”

“Uh? Why not?”

And that’s what got Tan.

See, he was never a biology master of anything at school, but like—there is a difference between pecs and... as Nut so eloquently put it, breasts. For one, men’s pecs can’t produce milk. Also, pecs are like, something everyone has. Breasts are fat and tissue and...

Well, when he sees it from that angle, Tan guesses, if the pecs are as big as Nut’s... Could they qualify as breasts? That would probably require some study.

Great, now he’s getting sidetracked again.

Tan kind of lost count of how many times he had to repeat, “Those aren’t breasts, let’s be real for a moment...” And everytime, Nut would just shrug. Like the irreality of it didn’t bother him one bit. Like he’s into it, and that makes Tan’s brain blue-screen for a moment because he never even considered the possibility that Nut might be into it just as much as he is.

And that’s what kick-started their... intense term break.

(Tan still doesn’t understand how something as seemingly innocuous as his ‘fixation’ with Nut’s chest triggered everything that came afterwards, but as things stand now—he couldn’t regret it any less.)

They’ve had sex before.

They’ve had sex a few times before, actually.

Not after their first or second date, but after that. When Tan had already processed the fact that this insanely hot man does, indeed, want him, and the ‘Khun Tan’ this, ‘Khun Nut’ that was a thing of the past, reserved exclusively for school grounds and sometimes not even that. And it was good—Tan is likely being biased because his other sexual experience is not that great, but Nut... he knows what he’s doing. A gentleman for absolutely everything, this man is. And somehow, his constant asking Tan if something he was doing was fine, or if Tan would prefer it some other way, never got bothersome. Tan gave him the answers he wanted, and then Nut kept doing his thing and Tan allowed himself to just... let go. For a moment, there was no stress and no responsibilities and nothing that wasn’t Nut, Nut, Nut.

So yeah, they had already had sex. And it unlocked something inside Tan, to be honest—until Nut, sex hadn’t been... enjoyable. A few hookups here and there, so he wouldn’t have to call himself a virgin still at thirty, but nothing else. None of his past boyfriends would’ve wanted to touch him in that way anyway, if they had made it past the one month mark.

But this isn’t the time nor place to be reminiscing on all that.

All this to say: Tan isn’t a virgin. Nut isn’t either. They have fucked before. They have fucked each other before. Plenty at that.

Just never like...

... Like this.

The shower was his salvation for about twenty minutes. Or not so much, considering he still had Nut’s voice ringing in his head the whole time.

“You know we don’t have to do it the same way everytime, right? Wanting to explore is normal, Tan. And I’d say term break is as good a time as any to do that. Wouldn’t you agree?”

And what did Tan say? Not ‘no’, that’s for sure. Which is to say, he agreed. Also known as, holy shit, I’m really fucking doing this. Whatever ‘this’ means.

Because, as a matter of fact, Tan doesn’t know what exactly is going to happen when he steps into the bedroom—Well, sex, duh. But not the kind of activities that will transpire in the bedroom. All he did was admit that he liked his boyfriend’s ‘breasts’. When Nut asked if he had any ideas in mind for that, Tan froze up; never in his life did he believe he was gonna get that far, of course he hadn’t gone into specifics. Just Nut letting him hold one of his pecs would be enough to last Tan a lifetime. Not that he’ll ever admit to that.

So Nut told Tan he would think of something for that night, then they could put it into practice. Cool, cool. It’s fine, Tan is fine. He didn’t at all have to stall in front of the mirror, bracing himself up for what Nut’s brain could come up with.

He didn’t at all nearly trip into the bedroom out of nerves.

And what’s the most whiplash-inducing is entering the room and finding the most normal scene: Nut lying on his side on the bed, propped up on one elbow, no shirt on, reading what Tan thinks must be his favorite book; he picks it up a bit every night before bed. Poetry. Because of course, what would a gentleman be without his poetry. Tan asked him to read to him once, whatever poem Nut liked most—the one about Ophelia in the river, the lilies and her long veils, the wind twisting her hair and kissing her breasts...

Oh.

“You look two seconds away from passing out.”

“Maybe because I feel two seconds away from passing out.”

Nut smiles it off. Sets his book to the side and helps Tan walk to the bed—and thank God he does, because Tan feels stiff as a goddamn board.

Then again, Nut proceeds to start massaging his shoulders which, instead of relaxing, tenses Tan up even more. So maybe not as much ‘thank God’ as Tan thought. Scratch that then.

“So...” Tan tries his best to speak casually, but of course the universe wouldn’t be so kind. His voice cracks. Badly. Great, cool. Now he’s going through puberty all over again because the prospect of sex with his own boyfriend made him that nervous. Cool, cool. “What are we, uh—what do I have to do, again?”

Quickly comes the reassurance. “We don’t have to do anything, honey.” And Nut presses a kiss to his temple, to drive the point home. Surprisingly, it does work. At least a bit. “We can go to bed, or I can read to you if you prefer.”

It does sound enticing, but again, pretty much everything does when it comes to Nut. Tan is terribly biased. Going back to normal after experiencing the domestic bliss of resting his head in Nut’s thighs, getting his hair played with and listening. Something something bridges, something something the water, the ropes and...

... And maybe Tan can do it.

Plenty of other things also used to be scary. Just being on the same room as Mrs. Paan used to be unnerving for Tan when he had no one sitting by his side during meetings; someone that he knows for sure is on his side, even if their opinions do clash at times. Until Nut—who holds his hand under the table when he feels Tan is getting fidgety and can be convinced of things as easily as a puppy-eyed look and some sweet-talk.

Yeah. Maybe Tan can do it.

“No, I want to.” He sounds way more sure of himself that time. “Just... don’t know what to expect. But I trust you! I always do.”

He does. To a frankly scary degree, too. If Nut suddenly asked him to let him give Tan a tattoo, Tan wouldn’t even ask where his credentials are, he would strip right off his shirt, jump on the bed and tell Nut that sure, go ahead, how do you want me? 

And, to be fair, he could’ve said the same thing at that moment.

Good thing he chooses to turn and kiss Nut instead of talking. Can’t put his foot in his mouth if he’s got Nut’s tongue down his throat.

Tan is already going soft, relaxed from the shower and bordering on sleepy. Normally he lies on his side and lets Nut fuck him like that. How they both like it—face to face, sloppy kisses and Nut’s fingers digging hard on his hips, and it drives Tan a little crazy because he knows Nut could break him if he wanted to, but he’s always so gentle with it. Tan feels a bit tempted to ask Nut to postpone whatever he has in store for another night because the thought of doing it the regular way sounds that enticing.

But then Nut has to say “I’m going to take good care of you, honey.” Knowing what that does to Tan: that he gets all eager to please and be pleased, and that he knows very well by now that Nut always makes good on his promises. Especially when they involve Tan.

He’s a little awkward when he turns to fully face Nut, unsteady on his knees and almost tripping if not for Nut’s hands on his shoulders. It’s hard not to shuffle onto Nut’s lap—everything about him is so big, radiating warmth and so, so safe. But they aren’t doing it the normal way, so Tan holds back; whatever it is, it will be fine simply because it’s with Nut.

“I want you on top.” Nut says that, and Tan kind of chokes on his spit. Not that he’s opposed to topping by any means, but— “Kind of, at least.”

Tan would’ve asked what the hell that meant. He couldn’t though. Nut reads his mind.

He can’t say he’s any less confused at the moment when Nut quickly reaches for the nightstand and pulls a... small bottle out of the drawer.

“We don’t have to use this,” Nut is quick to clarify, “but I thought it would help. The slide won’t be easy if it’s not... well, slick.”

“The wha—please, just tell me what you mean, I don’t have much brainpower left right now.”

“My chest.” Nut says, like it should have been obvious. Like he did on their first date, when Tan asked him why he was treating him to such an expensive dinner. “I thought, since you were so fixated on it, that you would want...”

Apparently, it isn’t so easy to get it out. For a second, Tan feels almost compelled to smile and say ‘not so easy now, is it?’ or something along those lines. And don’t get him wrong, he would have, because he’s kinda petty like that, but then...

“That you would want to use it.”

Oh.

Oh. 

So they are actually fucking doing that. Cool, cool. Tan is fine, seriously. Just peachy, actually. Totally not debating between dying of a heat-induced heart attack and worshipping at Nut’s feet because clearly, this man isn’t real. So Tan is dating a creature that he doesn’t believe is human. Cool, great.

“Just to check, when you say ‘use’ you mean...”

“Tan, we are adults with a very active sex life. You know what I mean.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to check!”

Nut sighs. Tan still finds it strange how averse he is to saying curse words—he guesses that, as opposed to himself, working with kids for so long has made Nut watch his language more carefully. It’s even more important in his case, being a literature teacher and all.

But, on the flipside, it makes it all the hotter when Nut does let loose and says them. Pulling Tan closer by the shirt collar and slowly, deliberately so, looking up from Tan’s lips to his eyes.

“Would you like to fuck my tits, Khun Tan?”

Nut being vulgar does things to Tan.

It’s a given, with how prim and proper he usually is. Even during sex, he somehow manages to be more romantic, borderline poetic, than crass. Not that Tan doesn’t like romantic Nut (it is, in fact, one of his favorite things about his boyfriend—how Nut can say the cheesiest lines with such a straight face when Tan always blushes madly is beyond him), but something about hearing such filth in Nut’s voice... hits different. It’s nice to be ‘honey’, of course. Sometimes though...

“How nasty you are,” Nut sounds breathless, halfway between a sigh and a chuckle, “you wanted this so badly, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask?”

Tan doesn’t have the brain capacity to answer that with some witty comment—probably about how Nut also couldn’t bring himself to properly ask Tan out and went off of an assumption during their first date, but at this point they’re well past that. They ended up in a relationship regardless, so why does it matter.

And besides, Tan is a little busy trying not to cum.

In paper, the idea of fucking Nut’s tits (and after getting over the initial shock of hearing those words from Nut’s mouth, not to mention process their meaning) didn’t sound that different from jerking off. Which Tan has done plenty, mind you; especially when Nut was still new and Tan hadn’t figured out what it was that he felt for the man.

In practice though, as Tan finds out, it’s very fucking different.

For one, Nut’s pecs are a lot softer than his own hand. Yeah, shocker. A way fleshier part of the body is softer than one with more than twenty bones in it. Who would’ve guessed. Apparently, not Tan.

It’s also way slicker, and that’s not only because Nut bought oil for this. The whole room reeks of sickly-sweet honeydew and they’ve only used a little, barely enough to cover half of Tan’s palm. It also probably has something to do with the way Nut refused to get straight to the point, no foreplay—foreplay is Nut’s favorite part of sex, after all.

Meaning, he let Tan play with his tits before getting to the fucking part.

Once or twice, Tan has pinched one of Nut’s nipples as a joke or to get him to pay attention, but that’s as far as his previous experience went before this. And that shows in the number he’s made of Nut’s chest: his first overenthusiastic bite has left a ring of teeth on the left side, glossy with too much unnecessary spit plus the oil, standing out in the mist of hickeys all over Nut’s pecs. They’re blooming red already, and Tan knows he’ll be seeing a lot of them for the rest of term break; some marks won’t stop him from walking around the house shirtless.

Massaging the oil into Nut’s pecs was a topic of its own. Not only is Nut’s skin so ridiculously soft, but also—the goddamn noises, fuck. Nut is not some divine creature, because he can feel things. Pleasure, in this case.

And it’s not that Tan has never noticed the noises his boyfriend makes during sex. He loves hearing Nut moan and groan when he’s balls deep inside him, cleawing at Tan’s hips like he wants to embed himself permanently on him, panting about God, you feel so good, always so good for me, honey, you’re so perfect. 

But this is not that—these are soft little hums Nut is making, content and almost sleepy from the bottom of his throat. The occasional gasp when Tan grazes his nipples (and Tan has written down that nipple sensitivity for... future use). Heaps and heaps of praise even when Tan does the bare minimum, though that’s already a given.

“Look at you. My love is so needy.”

And then, “They’re all yours, honey, you can do whatever you want to them. Do whatever you want to me.”

And then it was, “God, you’re adorable, sucking on them like that...”

And, “Go ahead, love, you’ve already waited for so long. Fuck them.”

It’s honestly a miracle Tan has come completely untouched by this point. Nut being vulgar does things to him, and he’s so painfully hard when he straddles Nut’s chest, resting his cock in the space between his pecs. Even worse when Nut looks up at him through his lashes, wide smile on his face when they make eye contact, grabbing at his pecs with both hands and pushing them together to create a space for Tan to actually fuck into.

“Do it.” He encourages. “Make a mess of me, love.”

Those words nearly send Tan over the edge, but thankfully, he manages to hold back. That would’ve been embarrassing enough to last him a lifetime.

It’s messy. So, so messy, the slide wet and noisy with spit and oil and sweat. The air is thick and hot, and the mix of scents is making Tan a little dizzy, but he keeps thrusting into that snug fit anyway. He grips the pillow hard enough to rip the case to avoid slipping, hands on each side of Nut’s head.

His glasses start to fog, and if Tan wasn’t practically blind without them, he would’ve shaken them off already—but he wants to keep looking at him, at every change in Nut’s expression without missing a thing. Like the tonguing at his lips ever so slightly whenever Tan pushes his hips forward, and the leaking tip of his cock comes closer to Nut’s lips, but never quite touch. As if Nut is trying really hard not to tack anything else on top in case that would be too overwhelming for Tan.

Ever the goddamn gentleman.

This guy can’t be human. He must also be hard as a rock himself, and yet he’s letting Tan use him like a toy to get off—and oh, that idea sounds so fucking enticing. Stubborn, cool teacher Nut, lying there and taking it? Too good to be true. But it is reality. It is Tan’s reality, somehow. He still can’t grasp why, but he’s not complaining either.

“Good boy,” Nut breathes, and Tan doesn’t know if he was meant to hear that or not. “Good boy, Tan. Taking what you want from me. Take everything you want, honey.”

So he does.

They’re both slick, sweaty messes by this point. Maybe it wasn’t so smart, showering before this, but Tan’s brain doesn’t compute that. Too much of a one track mind at the moment: Nut, Nut, Nut, nothing else. Nut, impossibly attractive under him, shirtless and honey skin glistening, his hair a mess from throwing his head back into the pillow to give his neck a break from the constant straining. Leaving his throat exposed when he does that, all vulnerable and helpless—and Tan finds himself grabbing onto the headboard instead with one hand, dropping the other down to touch at Nut’s neck.

His nails have gone untrimmed for a few days too long, and Nut takes a sharp breath, fucking shudders when Tan’s thumb traces up and down his neck, nail pressed on the skin. Like Tan might claw at him, tear him apart, consume him whole. But he never does, and Nut seems to know that; no fear in his expression, only the lust-induced blown pupils and amused smile, like Tan is doing something cute and doesn’t have a hand basically wrapped around his throat. Tan could easily break him right now, but he’s gentle with it instead.

What a gentleman Tan is.

He can feel the bob of Nut’s Adam’s Apple under his thumb. The sweat is already making its way down. Tan’s hand gets wet with it, but he doesn’t move it. It doesn’t gross him out, particularly. He thinks if he could get Nut to suck on his fingers even in this state, and he smiles something wicked when he does. He could. He knows he could. There’s a twisted pleasure in knowing he could, but deciding against it.

He thinks that he could get used to this, to having Nut like this—big man like Nut looking whorish for him.

“You wanted this.” Tan comes to the realization rather late. Or maybe he always had the suspicion, but it has only made sense in his head now. He’s still smiling, chuckles breathlessly. “You wanted this. You couldn’t just ask? You had to walk around the house like a whore? You talk about me like you aren’t just as bad...”

Nut smiles, a little lopsided. “Wouldn’t... Wouldn’t have been fun.”

“So you’d rather whore yourself out? Very disappointing, Khun Nut.” He makes sure to put extra emphasis on the title. Nut fucking moans. “I thought better of you. Thought you’d never sink so low, showing off your body like some cheap stripper.”

“Yeah... Yeah, I—For you. I love you, just—didn’t know if you’d like this. Doing the work.”

“Now I’m lazy?”

“Pillow princess, more like.”

Tan chooses to pinch Nut’s nipple instead of taking the choking way out. Nut cries out, but doesn’t stop smiling. Neither of them does. They must look like a couple of lunatics, and the thought of seeing this all from the eyes of an outsider just makes Tan’s smile wider.

“Whore.” He says it lovingly, and Nut accepts it. Mouths something that, in his haze, Tan can’t quite interpret but that looks like ‘I am’. “And to think—the students think you’re so cool, now look at you. Whore.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” Tan chokes out. His hand that’s gripping the headboard is scratching at the hardwood, knuckles white. God, he’s so close, “my whore. My whore with pretty tits.”

He’s not thinking much when he says that. Otherwise, Tan would’ve probably cringed. Nut, too. But they’re both a little gone by now, a little dizzy. A little crazy. They’re a couple of fucking lunatics and Tan loves that—loves this, feels on top of the world. He is, in a way.

His world just so happens to have a name and a body on him.

It feels like a punch to the gut when he finally cums. Knocks all the air off his lungs and Tan thinks he might die for a second, if not from the lack of air, then from Nut’s face—hazy eyes, mouth agape as he tries to even out his breath, lids heavy. There are red, hand-shaped marks on his chest from holding his pecs together for so long. The mess of oil, sweat and now dried spit now has cum added to the mix. In a messed-up, disgusting way, Tan likes this look on him, far from that prim and put-together image.

“My knees hurt.” He complains once he’s back from his high. When he moves and his back hits the mattress, it’s like lying on top of a cloud. Unconsciously, Tan glances down, just to check. As he suspected: Nut is hard as a rock and leaking, if the wet stain on his sweatpants is anything to go by. “Want to do something about that?”

“Just your hand is fine, if you’re up to it.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute.” Tan sits up, streching his arms over his head. A little arch of his back and— “Ugh, my hips! I’m getting old.”

Nut snorts as he reaches for the nightstand. Tan guesses he’s looking for tissues. Logical.

“You’re twenty-nine, Tan. You’re fine.”

“Not if we keep doing this, I won’t.”

“So you don’t want to do this anymore?” Nut asks, amusement clear in his voice.

Tan glances down at him. A smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “I never said I wouldn’t gladly ruin my bones for more of this.”

“That’s what I thought.” Nut also sits up. He hands Tan the tissues, alongside his best ‘Please?’ look. Tan caves that easily. “I take it the experiment was successful then.”

Not a question. He knows it was, he simply wants the confirmation. Ass. Tan loves him.

“Oh, absolutely!”

Nut has the most self-satisfied grin on his face as Tan wipes his chest down. Considering how many times Nut has done the same for him and uttered no complaints, Tan won’t either.

“We should do things like this more often.” He says, for the sake of filling the silence. That, and he actually does think so—tonight was fun enough to warrant a repeat. Trying new things is scary in principle, but is this is how it’s going to be, then...

Nut hums in agreement. “We definitely do.”

Chapter Text

He touches Tan’s mouth.

Nut traces over his lips with clinical accuracy, as if the lines are coming from his fingers and he’s the one drawing this masterpiece come to life. Dip of the Cupid’s bow, downward slope, the irresistible pouty bottom. Again. Then again. Then again and Tan’s mouth pries open, silently asking What are you doing? Nut simply traces over the outline once more. Hopes it makes sense, his fascination with playing artist like this—mapping out every corner of Tan’s body with his fingers, feeling the prickle of the skin and the tingle of thin body hair.

He is a lover of all things artistry. Art school was a frustrated dream, because Nut’s skills with pen and paper are worse than amateurish, but he can have this now: a human canvas of sorts, who reacts to his touch and squirms, but never pulls away.

If anything, Tan is the real artist. Camera on hand, capturing stand-stills of the scenery, face beaming with pride upon seeing the results. And what an attractive look that is—then again, all looks are attractive when on Tan.

Perhaps Nut is being biased; after all, the reason he talked to Tan first among all his other colleagues wasn’t only because he looked the closest to him in age, but also because Nut found him handsome. And he is.

That’s why Nut likes this so much: the touching, the staring. Burying his nose in still-damp brown locks and breathing in the scent of green tea. Licking into Tan’s mouth like a man starved and still tasting some leftover beef from their lunch break, smiling into the kiss as he teases Tan for being so eager that he forgot to brush his teeth. Dirty boy, he’d say, and Tan would blush furiously and turn away from him, push him half-heartedly. Shut up, Tan would snap back, you like it. And Nut would say nothing at all in reply because he does.

So he’d keep touching Tan instead—his neck, his shoulders, under his shirt. And Nut’s hands would inevitably wander down the small of Tan’s back, till they’re chest to chest, eye to eye, nose to nose.

Tan would grab onto his neck, legs around Nut’s waist, impossibly close, and they’d be all over each other as they stumble into the bed, like they are still in highschool and they got to be each other’s sweetheart back then. How nice that would’ve been.

But the thought, while pleasing, isn’t really realistic. It could’ve worked out differently than the idealized scenario in his head, after all: they’ve changed so much from their teenage years to adulthood that it’s impossible to tell whether they would’ve even gotten along. Nut was the popular kid back then, with his top marks and the athletics to boot, and from what Tan has told him, he was more of a loner himself. The ‘nerd’ his classmates would pick on, so he would keep to himself most of the time.

Although, to be truthful, Nut always did have a thing for the nerdy guys. Their love for the most niche topics, the way they’d constantly babble about them. He’s always been more of a listener than a talker, doesn’t like to talk unless he’s got something useful to bring to the conversation.

His interest, so to speak, is hearing about other people’s interests.

Tan is not an exception, of course.

His love for photography, his unusual interest in math of all things, so much so that he decided to teach the subject to others.

He likes bikes, but doesn’t know much about brands, or rather doesn’t care as long as the ride is nice and fast. He’s taken Nut out on his new bike a few times and has a preference for night rides in specific, and Nut knows he likes it even more when he wraps his arms around Tan’s waist and tells him to drive safe.

He likes sweets but can’t bake without burning it or making a mess of things, so he sticks to being Nut’s taste-tester and doing the grocery shopping when it’s pertinent. Though Nut can’t say he is very useful (everything always tastes great for him, but then he flashes that lovely smile and Nut can’t even ask him to be serious because he also smiles), he loves having the company while he cooks. Someone who fills the silence talking about his day, or about their plans for the weekend, or about Nut’s mom coming to visit next week, while never taking his eyes off the cook—Nut never really liked being in the spotlight, loathed having to go on stage to pick up a diplomma or a trophy when he was in school. But Tan’s attention is the one thing he’ll never get enough of.

Nut, too, makes sure to give Tan his undivided attention. Whenever it is, wherever they are. Sometimes it’s difficult to get things done because of that, but Nut is nothing if not professional: paperwork first, pleasure next. Bringing work home is not an option.

Not when he can have this instead.

“What are you doing?” Tan asks it out loud this time, but softly. Very, very softly.

It’s four in the morning and they came back from a faculty meeting at school (discussing scheduling for the next term, Sports’ Day, and some other things that Nut is sure could’ve waited until their break was over or, alternatively, been an e-mail) only a few hours ago. They ate leftover takeout (“Nut, I seriously just want to go to bed right now”, “Skipping meals is bad for you, honey. That’s a non-negotiable”) and took turns in the shower. For nothing, because Tan was a soft, pliant thing in the sheets, already half asleep but still demanding.

“Empty,” he said, and Nut didn’t need any more details. He already had a hunch when he noticed Tan was taking more than five minutes in the shower.

They had sex barely two hours ago, and for as much as he was complaning about wanting to sleep the entire weekend off (they can’t; they have tickets for a movie tomorrow, and neither of them likes wasting money away), Tan became a restless mess as soon as Nut’s cock was in him. Not enough to do more than just grind his hips to try and get Nut deeper, deeper, deeper, even though he couldn’t—it was already as deep as it would go, but Tan always wants more. He bites wherever he can reach, too. Sometimes, Nut stares at the indents on his skin the morning after, angry red and deep enough to draw blood on occasion. Such as tonight. Nut can still feel the distant throb on his shoulder, Tan’s personal favorite chewing toy.

Puppy, he thinks, and the thought brings a smile to his lips. What a cute puppy.

Tan tries again. “What is it?”

Under any other circumstances, Nut knows the uncertainty would unnerve him, the anxiety would be thick on his voice. But not here—Tan is only curious, not restless. He’s safe, away from prying eyes and outside judgement, though his own still rears its head from time to time. Thankfully, Nut knows how to keep it in check. Tan wasn’t made for those ugly thoughts, but for growth and nurture. For many wonderful things. And Nut, if possible, wants to give him everything: the world, the moon and a nice house, complete with a big garden and a dog. He’s thought about it all. Has the money saved up and all. And Tan deserves it.

He traces over Tan’s mouth again.

He thinks about the marks all over his shoulders, how Tan is also his own kind of artist when he thinks about it. He thinks of the ink on Tan’s own shoulder and arms, and oh, Nut thinks he gets it now. The fixation. And he gets it because that, too, is his case.

Suddenly, he’s on top of Tan. He doesn’t know what possesses him to do that, but Tan smiles, a drowsy and devastating thing as he wraps his arms around Nut’s neck. “What?” Impossibly soft, like he might fall asleep any second.

Nut is going to say something, anything, although his brain isn’t quite functioning, but then he sees it. Catches a glimpse of  Tan’s underarm, at what’s written there. Begin again. He got that recently, because he’s ‘a new man’ or some such. Nut didn’t hear much, busy as he was admiring it all: the needlework, how clean the lines and how graceful the writing. Tan’s handwriting, Nut knows from the countless times he has seen it now, whether on corrections to students’ essays or on those sticky notes Tan used to leave on his desk alongside a milk carton.

Something about the body art fascinates Nut. Naturally, or else he wouldn’t have his own body covered on it. But seeing it on Tan is different, somehow. Maybe because of how unassuming, so harmless with his glasses and his cute bangs, his tendency to overreact.

And yet he’s got a full shoulder blade piece.

The first time he saw it, Nut kind of stopped breathing. A tattoo was the last thing he expected to see when he stripped Tan off his shirt—but quickly, it grew into an obsession. It has become a habit to keep a hand where he knows the tattoo is whenever he can, especially during sex. Wrapping an arm around Tan and pulling him close, with a hand hard against the shoulder blade and the other gripping Tan’s hip. Yet another reason why Tan lying on his side for sex is for the best and why Nut silently hates missionary. Or ‘hated’, maybe. Perhaps now that Tan is flaunting that new underarm piece, it will be different.

In any case, if Nut knows his boyfriend, he knows Tan hates lying on his back. He’s a side-sleeper for a reason, not only cause he’d be cranky in the morning if he doesn’t have Nut’s arms around him all night.

“Sleepy?”

“Not really,” Tan is lying, Nut knows. Everything about him screams ‘exhausted’. But they have no big obligations tomorrow, so Nut ventures that sleeping in wouldn’t be that bad. He is usually an early riser anyway, he can take care of chores while Tan gets his beauty sleep. “Why?”

But it just gets added to the record of questions Nut hasn’t answered in the past ten minutes. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because there’s so much—My honey, my darling; I love you; you’re so dear to me, so precious; turn around, back to me, watch in the mirror as I take you apart again.

Nut will forever be grateful for that one investment they made once Tan started spending the night more often: full body mirror besides Tan’s side of the bed. Tan argued that it was weird and insisted of covering it when they had sex... until Nut used it to teach him self-love, that is. He is still a bit shy about catching some expressions on his reflection, but he’s so sleepy now he’ll probably doze right off before he can find a flaw where there is none.

And although that’s an attractive thought... Nut thinks he has something different in mind.

“Not tired then?”

Tan shakes his head.

“On your stomach then.”

“If you wanted to fuck again, you could’ve just said it...” Tan murmurs before burying his face into the pillow. Nut thinks he hears a yawn, but he can’t be too sure. He is... a little distracted, as it were.

He can barely make out the ink on Tan’s shoulder thanks to the feeble moonlight coming in through the window. Nut traces over the lines. In all honesty, he’s still not quite sure what it’s supposed to be. Tan explained it to him at some point, but Nut was... occupied. Thinking. About how good some smudges of red would look in between the ink and Tan’s skin, more specifically.

It’s not like Nut needs to know all the minutiae to appreciate its beauty.

The finger is replaced by Nut’s mouth. He starts where the lines venture into Tan’s arm, but not quite. Just a touch first, lips to skin. Tan lets out a content hum, turns his head to the side presumably to avoid suffocating, but also to catch a glimpse of Nut’s face buried into his shoulder blade through his lashes.

Nut continues. Follows along the line with his lips, as if he were trying to commit the drawing to memory.

Tan spreads his legs further, little by little, as Nut keeps going. Every time he shifts, his ass brushes against Nut’s dick. He keeps making soft little noises—and there must be something purposeful in that, more than simply trying to make himself comfortable, and Nut would catch on to it rather fast under normal circumstances. His cock is definitely reacting to the contact, no matter how brief. Sex wasn’t what he was after when he initiated it, but it’s also not entirely out of the question. After all, Tan is not the only one who’s obsessed with pleasing his partner.

After the sketch, comes the color inside the lines. And there is no real ‘practical’ way to do it that won’t take an eternity. But is time really of any concern right now? Past four in the morning and they are both awake by now. Nut can take his time if he so pleases.

He fills the kiss-drawn lines with more presses of his lips. At points, Tan lets out a breathy noise that sounds half-way between a chuckle and a whine, like Nut’s nose brushing his skin as he kisses down tickles him. The thought gets a smile out of Nut; Tan is ticklish. Nut will sometimes sneak a hand around his waist and just his fingers grazing his waist will make Tan jump out of his skin.

It’s cute. Strange, but cute. Tan is strange. Tan is also so cute. Arguably, it’s that strangeness which makes him cute.

The picture is finally complete, completely recreated with nothing but Nut’s lips. Glossy from wet kisses and Nut’s tongue filling in the gaps, catching the moonlight just right and giving the whole thing an air of unreality. Like Tan is a fragment of his imagination, because something this perfect is a thing of fiction. Nut has read so many descriptions of similar imagery in books, but never quite seen it himself. He chalked it up to writer-typical imagination and kept flipping the pages, taking notes, stressing over the next midterm.

But now he’s seeing it with his own eyes. He can stare as much as he pleases. He can touch it. He can even—

“Fuck!”

Nut can’t help himself. He bites. Right on the shoulder, deliberately avoiding the artwork. He doesn’t want to ruin it. Tan must’ve had an intention when he got it, a message behind the piece. Defiling it would be nothing short of a crime.

The rest of Tan’s body, although it is art of its own, is fair game.

So Nut leaves the mark of his teeth on his shoulder and smiles when Tan’s cry rips the stillness apart. He’s not that heartless, so of course Nut gives it an apologetic lick after the fact.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Payback.”

And then he moves to another spot, a little further away, nearly at Tan’s neck, and bites again. Softer this time. Delicate skin deserves a more delicate treatment. There’s no lick this time, just Nut lazily sucking on where the mark would be if he had been rougher—by the time he moves to do the same on the back of Tan’s neck, there is a pretty red left behind.

“Oh, so that’s how it is.” Tan muses out loud. Almost like he’s not getting his neck played with, if it weren’t for the ocassional soft whimper that follows the wet noise of Nut letting go of the skin after sucking on it, long enough to make sure a mark will remain. “Didn’t know you could be so spiteful.”

“You use me like a chew toy whenever you please. It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

Tan’s response comes in the shape of a hand catching Nut’s wrist and pulling, until whatever tiny distance was between their bodies is gone. Tan doesn’t turn, can’t with Nut’s big body on top of him, squeezing him against the mattress. Trapped himself. Nut can’t say he looks too scared at the realization though.

“What would be fair is you fucking me right now. Enough with the teasing already.”

Nut smiles. Presses a kiss behind Tan’s ear, holding back the urge to also give it a nibble.

“I just like them.” He admits out loud. His voice sounds weary to his own hears. “Your tattoos.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Tan says simply, letting go of Nut’s wrist to mess with his own hair now. “Guess I’ll have to do the same to you at some point. Take my sweet time with you. With all those fucking tattoos.”

The emphasis on the particular word is what makes Nut pause. “... All of them?”

And suddenly, he kind of regrets listening to his friends when they told him that spending his first ever paycheck (the whole thing) on tattoos was the best choice. To be fair, Nut was barely eighteen at the time, still arguably stupid and easily convinced.

“It’s only fair, isn’t it?” Tan teases. Nut can see the ghost of a smile half-pressed into the pillow. “If you move before I’m done with all of them, you don’t get anything. But I will get to use you.”

Nut shakes his head. The idea doesn’t sound bad—Tan normally doesn’t like being in control; what he really likes is the sense of a power struggle, putting up a fight and acting like a brat knowing full well that Nut is big. Strong. Could easily throw Tan over his shoulder and overpower him. Break him. He suspects that’s the reason Tan likes resting his head on his shoulder so much. He also wonders if, just like he was into nerds from a young age, Tan was into the sporty kids—maybe they would have gotten along had they met early on. Maybe they could have started this whole thing a lot sooner. Maybe Tan’s high-school life would’ve been so much better if they had gone to the same school.

He decides not to keep dwelling on that for now. Reminiscing on what can’t be changed is of no use, now or ever. At any rate, the past is there to help us learn how to handle ourselves in the future.

Nut’s future, both near and distant, consists on making Tan happy.

“I have created a monster, haven’t I?” He says, finally getting up with both his hands on the pillow, right by Tan’s head. Tan lets out what sounds like a sigh of relief. Not being crushed anymore must feel very nice.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

He doesn’t sound angry. A bit annoyed, maybe, because Nut is playing games and his poor cock must be pressed into the mattress all hard and uncomfortable and making a mess of their sheets. Frustrated for sure, because normally it doesn’t take this much begging to get Nut inside him and now that he’s not getting what he wants he’s getting fussy. It’s not a whine, but Nut can tell his voice is so close to breaking into one.

As much as he loves hearing Tan whine for him, something tells Nut that the payback will be twice as bad if he makes him wait any longer.

So he does it.

Tan is still so loose from earlier, where Nut opened him up with four thick fingers (“I just don’t think three is cutting it anymore, honey. You are always so tight, it feels like I’m going to hurt you. Can you take four for me, darling? I think it will be good for you.” Lies, lies, lies—Nut just had the morbid curiosity of knowing whether it would fit and knew his little size queen would rise to the challenge). The lube is mostly dry by now, but Nut’s cum still remains. Tan is always too lazy to shower after sex, too tired, and besides, he says, he likes it; makes him feel owned, makes him feel Nut’s. And Nut is not in the habit of ever denying Tan what he wants.

“Hmm, so messy.”

“I like the mess.” Tan, the naughty thing, agrees. He sounds more content now, with Nut’s cock back inside him, almost like he’s purring. “Not like you can get me pregnant or anything.”

The thought has Nut unconciously clawing at the pillow.

It’s not something he is into, per se. But if one thing has always been clear in his mind, it’s the fact that he wants a family. Nut became a teacher precisely because he loves the feeling, of teaching somebody how to do things, how to solve problems, how to deal with stuff that may seem too big and too scary. Seeing the kids grow and find what they love, a passion they’d want to pursue. It’s nice to do that for others’ children, but at the same time, Nut knows it would be so different if the kids were his.

For starters, it would be a twenty-four-seven kind of deal. And it sounds exhausting, but also so, so rewarding in the long run. Then, there is also the fact that they would be theirs. His and Tan’s.

That’s a whole other rabbit hole that he doesn’t want to dwell into. Not right now or he might start crying—not because he’s sad, but rather, because he (at the risk of being called a sap, not like that affects him) just loves Tan so damn much.

“Maybe if we try hard enough though.” Tan keeps talking. Nut doesn’t miss the way he clenches around him when he does. Like this is doing things for him too. “You look like you’d like being called Daddy.”

Not really, Nut thinks, but he doesn’t say it. He’d rather let Tan believe whatever he wants, call him whatever he wants. It might be an acquired taste that Nut hasn’t developed yet. Experimentation is supposed to work like that, and the 'Will you fuck my tits, Khun Tan?' experiment did turn out pretty successful. Who's to say the same thing can't happen again, but with this?

“I will stop right now and just sleep if you say that again.” But it’s just teasing, and Nut knows that Tan knows it. Tan tells him as much.

“Won’t.” He sounds so happy, too. So proud of knowing himself loved, always acting cute to get what he wants, all doe eyes and good manners. If Nut was a worse man, he would’ve eaten Tan up already. “You like me keeping you warm.”

Nut argues back with the tried and true, “Then I won’t let you cum. How does that sound?”

“I mean, I can always go jerk off in the bathroom...” But Tan seems to reconsider it as he speaks and, in the end, he just pushes back against his cock with a groan. “Maybe not. Too far. Forget it, just fuck me.”

So Nut does. Slow, because they are both tired and because Nut likes to take his time. They rarely do it hard and fast, only focused on getting off and little else; that’s almost exclusively reserved for when they’ve had a fight and are making up, but that doesn’t happen that often.

Sometimes though, Nut can tell that Tan exaggerates his annoyance at the slightest inconvenience just to cause a fight because he likes what comes next—Nut really needs to teach him how to ask for what he wants instead of taking the roundabout way out. Maybe tying him to the bed will help. Maybe not giving him an orgasm until he’s begging to be wrecked will help. Maybe Nut can do both. With some extra add-ons if necessary.

He files the thought away for later use. For now, Tan can get what he wants.

After all, he asked like a good boy, and Nut is not in the habit of denying him (often).

“Fuck... So good.”

Nut doesn’t know if it was Tan who said that or if it was him—he doesn’t really like cursing, finds it too crass and too vulgar, but it’s at times like this where it feels fitting, even inviting to do so. Sometimes the words just slip out of his mouth without passing through a filter first. Tan likes it though, and Nut thinks that that’s a good enough reason to say them as he slams into him.

At first, Tan tries to bite the pillow, worried like he is that the neighbors might hear. But he forgets about decency maybe within thirty seconds of Nut giving him his cock, so he’s letting go of the fabric sooner rather than later, turning his head to the side and letting Nut hear him. Really hear him. How needy he gets, and he’s clenching even harder as if he never wants to let Nut go.

It’s cute, really. Has Nut smiling and diving back into the crook of Tan’s neck and biting. Hard enough that Tan inhales sharply, hisses. “Watch the fucking teeth,” or something like that. He does get tongue-tied something fierce when they are like this.

Nut simply bites him again. Tan never listens, so why should he?

He thinks he can understand why Tan is so into the whole ‘biting’ thing. Nut wouldn’t call himself a possessive man, but there is some sense of ownership in the gesture that gets to him. Marking someone like this, in such a primal way. He wishes it were permanent, like the ink in Tan’s shoulder blade.

It drives him a little crazy, thinking about Tan walking around carrying his mark like—like animals. Eat, sleep, breed. Breed, breed, breed. And in Nut’s melting, unfiltered brain, more specifically, Breed the bitch.

“You know, it was a heat of the moment thing last time, but...” Tan sounds breathless, half-choking on his words, the air getting knocked out of his lungs by increasingly harder thrusts. “You really are a bit of a whore, aren’t you? Fucked me a couple hours ago and already want me again? Just staring at my tattoos got you excited like that? Whore.”

So what? Is what Nut wants to say.

So what if he’s a whore. A whore for one single person, for the one guy who stayed and wasn’t scared off because Nut wanted to ‘get too serious way too quick’, ‘got too easily attached’, ‘is too clingy’. So yes, forgive Nut if he wants Tan any time, any place, breakfast, lunch and dinner. Tan is the only person he would ever allow to call him a whore anyway.

Because he is one. At least, he is for Tan.

“And you are taking it.” Nut says instead. He smiles, big and twisted, all whites. Cheshire-like. “You are letting me. So what does that make you?”

“I never said I wasn’t a whore too, did I?” Tan is a smartass. His grin is shaky around the edges. Nut’s instincts tell him to shove his head in the pillow. Make him take it, show him who is in charge. Breed. The. Bitch. “Still have your—fuck, your cum in me and a—Ah!”

Nut bites. Hard. He can taste blood on his tongue when he pulls away, and he licks at his lips like he just ate a full-course meal. The not-inked shoulder resents him for the violent attack, and so does Tan.

“Bad dog.” He snarls. The comparison has Nut chuckling breathlessly. He probably sounds deranged. “N-No manners at all.”

Nut can’t resist it—he leans in, deliberately slowing down his thrusts, hovers over Tan, plays up the size difference like a predator about to pounce. Grazes Tan’s ear with his lips, giving it a little nibble before murmuring, “Dogs take after their owners.”

Tan laughs too, but there is a tinge of frustration there. On the way he clenches around Nut to try and get something, anything. Oh, Khun Nut, you’re so mean to me! Take pity on me, please! Nut can almost hear him whine.

His patience is short-lived though. Ten seconds and Nut still doesn’t show signs of speeding up, and he’s got Tan pinned to the bed, helpless underneath him and unable to turn around and face Nut to start making proper demands.

Oh, but Tan is nothing if not feisty.

So, he bites. Chomps on Nut’s cheek because it’s the closest piece of meat within reach, like he wants to take a chunk of it. Nut’s pain tolerance is relatively good, but Tan is ruthless with this one and it makes him cry out.

“Like that?” Tan asks. Smart ass bitch. But it gets him what he wants—Nut punishes him with a hard thrust, then another one. Although it’s not a punishment at all, he knows.

It’s a stiff neck waiting to happen for Tan, and the position is becoming increasingly uncomfortable for himself as well. Nut feels so mean by pulling out, but it lasts barely a second. Tan doesn’t even have time to voice his displeasure before Nut grabs him by the shoulder (hard, maybe too hard) and turns him around. Then it’s his ankles being clutched, even if Nut is pretty sure Tan would’ve wrapped those pretty legs around his waist on his own.

Tan’s little smile tells him that he enjoys getting roughed up though. A nice change of pace from the usual princess treatment he gets, because Nut can’t fathom treating him any other way—usually, anyway. A little bit of biting, a little bit of sensual touching and all the four-a.m drowsiness has completely vanished from his system.

Tan throws his head back with a pleasured sigh when Nut pushes back inside. Roughly, no finesse. The rational part of Nut’s brain has been relegated to the background, but a little voice tells him that maybe he’s hurting Tan for real—it goes away so quickly though, when Tan throws him arms around his neck, pulls Nut close. Bites on his lower lip. Gently this time, catches it between his teeth and pulls oh, so slightly before letting go of it.

Two can play that game, Nut thinks.

So he keeps fucking into Tan, latches onto his lower lip and gives it a much harsher chomp. Tan moans, and Nut doesn’t know if it’s the bite that does it or if he just hit Tan’s sweet spot. Either way, he thinks, is good. He’s simply returning the assault on his poor cheek. It’s fair game.

There’s nails scratching at Nut’s back, and Nut thinks idly of his own tattoos. He wonders if Tan got any of them with those claws of his, but it devolves rather quickly.

Now he’s thinking of how long it’ll take Tan to make good on his promise, trace all of his tattoos while Nut can do nothing but stand there and take it; maybe, for good measure, Tan will have him tied up. Maybe he’ll add a blindfold to the mix, just to torture him some more. He is sure Tan will have him standing up too, find some twisted way to hang a rope from the ceiling like some—God, like some sort of S&M club. Not that Nut has ever been to one.

Nut bites Tan’s lip again to stop himself from going further down that path. He would cum too soon if he did, and he’s rather enjoying this, more than he thought he would. He remembers what Tan said last time. “We should do things like this more often.”

Oh, how right he was.

“Fuck me.” Tan hisses through gritted teeth and an injured bottom lip. His heels dig into Nut’s lower back hard enough to bruise. “Harder, harder—fucking fuck me harder!”

Mouthy bitch. Nut could give him something that would keep him quiet for a while. If he didn’t feel so goddamn good inside, Nut would’ve already pulled out again and came all over his face—not without grabbing Tan’s glasses from the nightstand first and putting them back on him.

But as it were, Tan does feel pretty damn good inside. So Nut keeps fucking him just as hard. Not harder, not softer. Just the exact same pace. And Tan’s nails dig into his shoulders so hard Nut can physically feel the skin break.

He decides Tan has had a bit too much fun.

Instead of biting, Nut clutches. For a second, he swears Tan stops breathing when he grabs him by the jaw and forces him to look Nut in the eye. He recalls being in a similar position himself not that long ago, vulnerable with Tan’s hand on his throat. The thought makes him smile.

He feels... mean, yes. But he likes it. He likes it because Tan likes it, he finds.

“You take what I give you,” He whispers, “or nothing at all.”

It seems Tan isn’t in a nice and pliant mood though. “Bet you can’t even make me cum at this rate.”

“Is that so?”

He’s falling right into Tan’s trap, Nut realizes before he even lets go of his jaw to wrap that same hand around Tan’s dick instead. He is mean all the same, because he tugs at it rather roughly, doesn’t even bother to spit on his palm to make the slide easier.

You take what I give you or nothing at all, and he meant it.

Tan makes a noise that’s a mix between an airy laugh and a moan because finally. Finally Nut is doing something about his painfully hard dick that has been neglected this whole time. Finally Nut is playing along, kind of—Kind of, because what he’s giving him isn’t nearly enough. Just a few harsh pumps and the warmth of his palm around Tan’s dick. He tries to fuck himself into Nut’s hand, but when he does, Nut squeezes and it hurts. Must hurt like a bitch, with the way Tan closes his eyes like he’s in pain and grunts.

“What I give you.” Nut repeats, voice hoarse. “Or nothing.”

Tan breathes in sharply, but tuts and complies either way. His poor bottom lip is wrecked where he tongues at it in an attempt to clean the nearly-dry blood droplets. Nut can tell he wants to keep arguing, but he must want to cum more.

His reward for being a good boy comes in Nut leaning his head forward, foreheads touching, their noses grazing softly. It might be strange, this display of gentleness in the middle of such savagery, but there is a time and place for everything, and this seems like a good one. He can taste blood when he kisses Tan—soft, a peck, no tongue and no spit.

Not until Tan decides he’s been good for long enough and licks a stripe up Nut’s lips.

And then Nut is catching Tan’s tongue between his teeth and sucking on it.

The noise Tan makes is a fucked-out one, gone and kind of watery. The poor thing, Nut thinks. The poor, messy thing. The poor, messy, greedy thing. Was already full, and yet he says nothing when Nut wants to give him more. The poor, messy, greedy, slutty thing. Idly, he wonders if Tan would let him get his way with him at the office, right at school, right over Nut’s desk.

He would, Nut answers his own question in his mind, as it’s now Tan who sucks on his bottom lip, until Nut’s tongue is out and he sucks on that instead. He would. What a slut. But then again, Nut himself isn’t any better. Whore, Tan called him last time, and Nut very nearly came at that. Whore. 

Yeah, he supposes he is one.

If he wasn’t one, he wouldn’t be eagerly fucking into Tan as deep as he can, shoving his tongue down Tan’s throat and making a mess of spit and some blood from the ocassional (though this time accidental) bites. Just like Tan wouldn’t be kissing back or letting Nut do any of this to him at this ungodly hour if he wasn’t a slut. A rose by any other name, or some such went the quote.

He pulls away when he feels himself breathless, already a little dizzy and so close to cumming. Barely two deep breaths is what Tan allows before pulling him back down, a hard clash that has Nut crying out in pain. He feels Tan smile though, as if his teeth haven’t felt that (or perhaps all the money and years that Nut had to endure wearing braces just made it hurt extra).

Up close like this, he can make out Tan’s mouth all red and swollen, and spit (Nut’s? Tan’s? It’s hard to know at this point) dripping down his chin and on his cheeks. Nut guesses he looks pretty much the same: sloppy, nasty.

Whorish.

And yet, Tan is still looking at him with that smile and those eyes—it’s so precious, Nut can’t look at him for too long without breaking character, breaking out of this mean persona who bites and mauls and thinks of the love of his life as a slut.

He hides in the crook of Tan’s neck, gives it a little nibble, and feels himself smile when he does. Tan’s hands go for his hair again. Nut is already halfway out of that headspace, and judging by the way Tan hasn’t yet pulled his hair again, he might be too. But not yet. Not yet, not yet. Just a little more, just until they both cum.

So, to speed up the process (or that’s what Nut tells himself—not that he wants to test how those words sound in his voice and see how Tan reacts to them), he closes his eyes and mutters, moving back till his forehead is touching Tan’s again, “Freak.”

“Whore.” Tan bites back.

“Needy bitch.”

“Mutt.”

“Teacher’s slut.”

And Nut can’t bear it anymore. He has to open his eyes. He has to look at Tan, at those soft puppy eyes and that big, lovestruck grin that Nut knows is already there because he hears it in Tan's voice. Any ounce of meanness within him instantly vanishes and just—Nut’s heart feels so very full.

“Honey.” Is what he says now.

“Khru Handsome.”

“Darling.”

“I love you.”

Nut needs to kiss him. No bites and no spit and no nothing, just a simple kiss.

So he does. And then...

“My good boy.”

That’s what pushes Tan over the edge, and Nut himself follows pathetically soon after.

He feels like he just ran a marathon. Nut is definitely not at his athletic prime anymore, that’s for sure. Could also be that this is way more intense than anything he was ever told to do in highschool gym class. Almost a full hour, he realizes when he spares a glance to the alarm clock on the nightstand. He wonders if it’s even worth it to go back to sleep at this point, or if they should just start the day early.

“So...” Tan starts once Nut has finally rolled over to his side of the bed. “What was that, exactly?”

“I just felt like it.” It’s the easiest explanation Nut can come up with. He’s not sure how much sense he could make if he tried to elaborate. All he recalls is that it started as appreciating the arts, and then... “I guess you are too handsome to resist.”

Tan smiles, that wide silly grin that Nut absolutely adores. “I mean, I can get that! Now we really need a shower though...”

He sounds... almost excited at the prospect. Alarm bells are not ringing in Nut’s head just yet, but it’s suspicious enough to warrant an eyebrow raise, at least.

“And why, pray tell, are you so eager to shower now?”

Turning around to face him, Tan’s smile turns into something more twisted. He’s kind of jittery, already pulling the puppy eyes out for extra flair, in case he might need them. It’s not the case, Nut could never, but it’s adorable either way.

“Payback.”

Tan has just answered the question for him: no, it’s not worth it to go back to bed.

And, after a proposition like that, Nut can’t really deny him, even if he wanted to.

Chapter Text

Bambam is Tan’s best friend.

They met in high school and became attached at the hip ever since. She’s actually the one to blame for Tan developing an interest in tarot and believing in the cards as much as he does now—because honestly, her accuracy with those readings was scary: they foretold Tan’s future career before he even had any idea what he wanted to do with his life, for example, and Tan laughed in her face at first cause math used to be his weakest subject.

Those cards also predicted that Tan would have a hot hunk of a husband in the future. Tan laughed in Bambam’s face even harder because him? Of all people? With a hot husband? When Tan was the nerd everyone would ask out as a joke for entertainment purposes, whose only friend was the weird girl with the tarot deck who sat at the back of the class? Yeah, sure thing.

Needless to say, Tan is not laughing anymore.

If anything, he is a bit terrified. But yeah, he’s a believer now. He’s seen enough to know those things work, and is now patiently waiting for the nice house with the garden and the dog that the cards promised him alongside the hot husband.

Case in point is: Bambam is Tan’s best friend.

“Tan, friend! Can you do me a favor, please?”

And when a friend asks for a favor, Tan’s response is of course, what do you need?

Big mistake.

Bambam is no longer Tan’s best friend.

Because Tan is currently standing in the middle of a fucking sex shop of all places, and it’s not with his boyfriend. That would be the logical scenario. But no. Nut is stuck at home, grading papers he has to hand back by the start of the new term, and Tan knows he would’ve been too mortified to even ask in the first place. He had never been to a sex shop before, though the morbid curiosity was always there.

His first time visiting is far from ideal. Tan is not sure he’ll ever want a repeat.

“If they think I brought my husband along, they might slip a little extra on my bag!”

That was the excuse Bambam pulled, and Tan wanted so badly to say no. He would have, had he been a worse person. But Tan is a good friend; Bambam has always been there for him when he thought his life was nothing but disaster after disaster. She was the only one who dared sit next to him at lunchtime, until she had introduced him to her own friend group—small, by all accounts, but it made Tan feel welcome nonetheless. They did Tan’s nails for the first time during one of those many sleepovers at Bambam’s house.

So yes, Tan does feel like he owes her something.

But he was thinking more along the lines of donating blood or a kidney, not sex-shopping.

“Hey, dumb question, but why aren’t you bringing, I don’t know, your wife?”

“Because Nida is stuck at home grading papers.” Which relatable, feel you there, girl. But Tan says nothing and just keeps staring at the hot pink walls. Anything to avoid looking at the mannequins modeling lingerie and the shelves full of sex toys. “And besides, this is meant to be a surprise for her! She has been so stressed lately, so I thought I should do something nice for her!”

“I think bringing her along so she can pick what she likes would’ve been a better idea, but oh, what do I know!”

“Tan!” Bambam chides him, slapping his arm. “Come on, stop complaining! You can even pick something you’d like to use with your hubby, if you want! My treat.”

First, Tan feels the need to correct her (“He isn’t my ‘hubby’ yet”), but he knows Bambam enough to know that wouldn’t deter her. Semantics have never mattered to her like that, or to Tan for that matter. He guesses that’s why Nut is the literature teacher, not him.

After that though... comes something that he can only describe as interest. Maybe the same morbid curiosity that he felt about coming to one of these in the first place.

His eyes betray him and dare take a peek down, at one of the shelves. A random one, just whatever is in front of him: the fleshlights.

And Tan tries so hard not to imagine himself using that on Nut, but—yeah, no, too late. He’s already grabbing one of the packages and boring holes into the image of the toy on it. Totally clear. If he convinced Nut to use it, he could... fuck, he would be able to see it all. Appealing to curiosity again, Tan has always kind of... wanted to see. How it looks like when Nut fucks him. The mirror is good, but not as good as he’d like. He wants to see the whole mess of it, how filthy and full of Nut’s cum and the way it leaks out.

God, look at him. Just staring at a package and already imagining the whole scene in his head. Feeling it on his fucking dick like it’s actually happening.

Even so...

“... If you insist, I guess I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bambam slaps his arm again, but this time is more a sign of support. “Now, where was that cute lingerie I saw...”

Tan grabs the stupid fleshlight from the shelf and follows her into the next aisle like it’s no big deal.

(It kind of is; the package feels way heavier in his hand than it should be, so Tan discreetly throws it into Bambam’s shopping basket and hopes she doesn’t accidentally take it home. He doesn’t know if he’ll be brave enough to ask for it back.)

Five minutes and they are still there. Bambam can’t decide between the see-through white lingerie set or the flowy baby blue one. Tan is utterly useless in that department, so he scurries off as far as he can—he doesn’t want to open that can of worms, doesn’t want to imagine himself wearing any of those ‘outfits’, if he can even call them that. With such little fabric in the way, he’d argue that...

Aaaand, mission failed. Tan is already thinking about it.

Bambam must be a goddamn mind reader to boot (or maybe her cards just told her that something like this might happen if he brought Tan along). She leaves aside the two sets she was considering and reaches for a third one, hidden behind a bunch of others in their hangers. And instead of taking a closer look, see if it really is the one, like she has the other two... she holds it out Tan’s way. Even leaves her basket on the floor so she can bring her now empty hand to her chin in a thoughtful gesture.

Tan can only pray to himself and hope don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t you dare say it, Bambam, or I swear to—

“You know, I actually think this would look pretty cute on you!”

Never fucking mind.

“Bambam, be serious.” Tan rolls his eyes at her with a scoff. Anything to show the idea does not appeal to him one bit. “I’d look ridiculous in that.”

“I don’t think your hubby will think the same way!”

“You don’t even know Nut like that...”

“What I know is that the man is totally head over heels for you,” She keeps insisting, “which means he’d be willing to try anything you ask. Or I could ask the cards for guidance, if you—”

Tan needs to stop her before she says anything else. He’d have to bang his head against the nearest wall to forget if he let her speak any more in order to forget it all. Enough embarrassment for a lifetime, he thinks.

“Do not ask the cards about my sex life, Bambam, or I swear to God!”

Because for once, there is nothing to complain about in that department. Tan has a sex life now, and it’s fucking incredible, thank you. As a matter of fact, he can still feel the marks of Nut’s teeth all over his back from the last time they went into ‘adventurous’ territory, and that was three days ago already. His lip has mostly healed by now, but Bambam still raised an eyebrow upon seeing the bruising and asked if Tan had fallen down the stairs, to which he hurried to make the excuse of “not everyone is as hapless as you, Bam!” It only worked to make her even more suspicious.

Then again, just because the sex is fucking incredible doesn’t mean it can’t get better, right? The biting thing is the most recent example, and then there was the whole ‘Come fuck my tits, Khun Tan’ that kick-started it all.

To be honest, Tan feels a little ridiculous right now. Pondering on this when he knows for a fact that Nut would agree to try it out without a second thought. It’s never as scary as Tan’s brain leads him to fear, and even then, Nut is always there to soothe the anxiety away. Best medicine in the market, if you ask Tan.

And besides, considering the filth he spews in the heat of the moment, Tan knows feeling this anxious over lingerie and a fleshlight (arguably still on ‘tame’ territory) is even more out of place. In his defense, he turns into a totally different person during sex. He knows that calling Nut names outside of it would make himself cringe out of his own skin.

“... Maybe just the thighs.”

“Great! The leather garters too?”

“Sure, why the hell not.”

Tan gives in.

Nut won’t mind, he tells himself. Even if it’s not necessarily up his alley, he’d be willing to give it a try.

And if all the bravery he has mustered to tell Bambam that suddenly vanishes once he is in front of Nut, Tan can always shove all this stuff in their closet and pretend it never happened. Maybe. If he's lucky. Or at least, until Nut finds it and they inevitably need to have a chat about it.

Hopefully, he will still feel brave by the time he gets home.

Bambam takes her sweet time trying to pick between the two sets of lingerie, only to decide in the end that she might as well just splurge and buy both. The only reason Tan doesn’t walk out of the store right then and there is because Bambam is still carrying his part of the loot in her basket. So he swallows his pride (and how much he wants to pull his hair out), and out of spite more than anything else, throws a few extra things into the basket. Doesn’t even look at them as he does, any random thing will do; Tan’s only aim is to pump up the prize she’ll have to pay and hope that teaches her a lesson. Whatever that lesson might be.

Surprisingly, the girl behind the counter doesn’t seem to have heard their discussion back at the lingerie aisle. Bambam was right on this one, and the girl does slip a little extra into the bags because she’s convinced Tan is Bambam’s husband.

The thought makes Tan shudder. As admittedly pretty as Bambam is, Tan is probably the least straight person in every room he walks in. And Bambam’s wife scares him shitless when she’s angry, that too.

They stop by a café on their way back, and only then does Bambam separate her toys from Tan’s into the two bags. She doesn’t seem surprised when she does, nor does she ask Tan why he bought any of those extra (unnecessary) toys. He simply takes a bite off his strawberry cake and thanks whatever God is up there that he didn’t grab anything too weird in his attempt to be petty. It was all for nothing anyway—Bambam didn’t even pay three-thousand baht for everything.

“Here, you can keep the blindfold.” Bambam says, referring to the little ‘extra’ the cashier gave them. Nothing big or lavish, by any means. “Nida and I already have a few in our closet.”

“I so didn’t need to know that.”

Bambam just giggles and hands Tan his bag before taking a sip of her Oolong tea.

On good days, Nut makes them both red chicken curry. If it’s a really good day, he adds banana pancakes for dessert.

When Tan gets home, the house smells nothing like any of those. Doesn’t smell like anything, really. It’s quite late, he just dropped Bambam out at her place and he was hoping to come home to dinner waiting so the talk about sex toys would be less... daunting. Having something to do with his hands would certainly help.

He kicks off his shoes at the door and leaves the bag behind. If Nut is not in the kitchen at this hour, something must be off, and Tan really doesn’t feel like having to explain that bag to boot.

As if time hasn’t passed at all, Nut is still sitting at the desk in the bedroom. Except he looks a lot more defeated now: his hair isn’t as well-groomed, he has his head thrown back, there’s a few buttons undone on his shirt, he’s rubbing his forehead and sighing, and he has a glass of water in hand and—yeah. He looks like Tan at the slightest inconvenience. And to see Nut like that is unusual. Very unusual. The feeling of something off grows even bigger the more Tan keeps looking at him from the doorway.

“Oh, hi, honey.” Nut acknowledges him, but it’s lacking the usual smile. “Did you have fun with your friend?”

“Forget about me!” Tan shakes his head and finally walks into the bedroom. The desk is relatively organized, all things considered; one stack of graded papers, one of ungraded ones. The latter seems to be winning still. “You look terrible!”

“Thank you, honey.”

“No, not like that! You just—” Tan gestures vaguely, knowing what he wants to say, but not quite how to articulate it. “It normally doesn’t take you this long. You have that many?”

Nut sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sets the glass of water aside. He looks so exhausted in ways that Tan didn’t think were possible. Not for Nut, anyway. Save for that one time they came back home absolutely plastered after a coworker’s birthday and Nut woke up the next morning looking like death itself (and Tan may have taken pics for possible blackmail purposes), Tan has never seen him like that. Nut is always the one who has everything together, the one who keeps a cool head in stressful situations.

Sometimes, Tan needs this kind of reality check though: as perfect as his boyfriend is, Nut is also human.

“I just wanted to get them all done and over with today. So I could spend more time with you.” Nut says, and the admission has Tan smiling like a fool.

“That... is actually really sweet. But you’re just running yourself ragged right now, honey.” He rests his hands on Nut’s shoulders and squeezes. Nut moans, all but melts into the touch, eyelids fluttering closed. Tan can only imagine how stiff the poor thing is. “Come on, I’ll help you clean up, then we order take-out! Sounds good?”

“Yeah...” Nut nods absentmindedly. Tan gives his shoulders another squeeze. “God, my back is killing me...”

“You’ve been sitting at this desk for how long now? It’d be weirder if it wasn’t!”

Nut whines. He knows that Tan is right, for once. Presumably, anyway. Tan thinks he can pretty accurately guess Nut’s thoughts at this point, and that’s a talent that took a while to perfect.

So, if his hunch is correct, what would help is...

“You want a massage? Or just... do something to unwind?”

Nut leans his head back, slowly opening his eyes to look up at him. The prettiest eyes Tan has ever seen.

“Something like what?”

“Uuhhh...” Now, to find a way to put it that sounds sexy enough, but also doesn’t give away too much. Nut can’t be the only smooth-talker in this relationship. Or the only one coming up with the good lines, for that matter. “Well, I got a few things at the shop. But I don’t know if you... I mean, if we—”

Damn, great work, Tan! You surely piqued his interest with that one!

Nut laughs, softly. “How about you just show me?”

... Or maybe you did, actually. 

Nut is one strange man—Tan can’t think of anyone else who would have fallen for his awkward, anxious, easily-stressed self, especially after Tan did nothing but behave like an obnoxious fucker to drive away the (back then) unwanted company. Now though, he’s glad his pettiness didn’t win. He’s glad Nut is so strange that he would find him charming despite it all. As cruel as it sounds, he is also glad that none of Nut’s past boyfriends stayed for long, because that meant a space for Tan in his life.

He’s grateful they get to have this.

Setting the cheesy thoughts aside, Tan gives him a kiss on the forehead and tells him to wait in the living room.

Tan becomes entirely too aware of just how big and heavy the bag is when Nut cocks an eyebrow the moment he sees him come into the room with it in hand. There is no use hiding what it all is, either; the name of the store is plastered in huge, hot pink letters all over. ‘Candy dreams’ would be a pretty innocent name by itself... but then there is the logo, a not so innocent close-up of a mouth in red lipstick suggestively licking a cherry. And the fact that they’ve walked by that store once or twice, and Tan knows for a fact that Nut didn’t miss his curious side-eye.

“Oh.” Is all Nut says. Like it doesn’t faze him at all. Then he adds a simple, “You didn’t tell me it was that kind of trip.” And he is smiling when he does. Still a little tired but growing more into ‘excited’ territory by the minute.

“I didn’t know it would be that kind of trip either. I swear, Bambam set me up...” Tan explains as he plops down on the couch next to him. The bag, he leaves on the coffee table. “She, uh... got me to buy a bunch of stuff. Or, well, not really ‘me’ since she was the one who paid, but... Yeah.”

“Let’s see what you got then!”

And Nut just... shoves his hand inside the bag. Like he’s just putting away groceries. Somehow, Nut treats sex like it’s both, a very important matter that needs thorough discussion (which Tan agrees with), and something completely... normal. As far from taboo as it can be unless, of course, there happens to be kids present. Not like something that warrants any shame.

Tan doesn’t think he can ever reach that level of naturalness, but it’s comforting nonetheless. He already feels way more calm than he has in the past few hours. He almost doesn’t even react when Nut pulls the fleshlight package out of the bag.

Nut simply nods. “A classic.”

“I actually got that thinking about you.” Tan admits, wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans. “Thought it would look good on you.”

A smile, and suddenly, Nut looks a lot less tired—his eyes are starting to look alive again.

“So this one is for me, hm? You’re very nice, honey.”

“Thanks, I try.”

Like that, he moves on to the next one. It’s like playing lucky dip, kinda. Nut doesn’t take a peek inside to get the full picture at once, but rather picks the funner option. Tan thought that ripping the band-aid fast would be for the best, but as it turns out, this is... well, fun, in a way that Tan can’t remember actual lucky dip being.

The next thing Nut pulls out is one of the items Tan shoved in the basket in a frenzy. A vibrator. Simple, metalic pink, the bullet type. Even comes with a charger and all. Very tame and harmless, considering all the kinds of crazy shit Tan saw on those shelves. Maybe he got lucky.

“Oh, another classic!” Nut says, as if he’s in awe, even though Tan is like, ninety-nine percent sure it’s all pretend play. “You know, I thought I would find something more out there when I saw this bag.”

Tan gives him the most exaggerated pout he can muster. “I can always go back and return them, if that’s how it’s gonna be!”

“You wouldn't do that.” Nut claims. So sure of himself, like it’s already a fact. And it kind of is, because just like Tan can read him like an open book, Nut can read him, too—Nut knows the pouty face is all an act. Tan wouldn’t dare set foot on that sex shop again unless with emotional support. Plus, he doesn’t think sex toys have a return policy, because hygiene. “And even if you did, I would just punish you with this pretty thing here. That sounds nice?”

Tan swallows, but it barely does anything for his bone-dry throat. It does sound nice, letting Nut drag that thing all over his body, maybe seeing how long he can stand the vibrations on his dick.

He only snaps out of it when he hears the rustling of plastic again.

“And this is... a collar?” Nut regards the item suspiciously. Tan leans forward for a better inspection. Black leather, heart-shaped ring-pull, presumably for a leash that he may or may not have bought out of pettiness as well. Yup, it’s definitely a collar. Nut turns to give him a confused look. “Is this supposed to be for me, or you?”

“I... kind of got most of this stuff on a whim. I didn’t even know I bought that until now.”

Although, to be fair, both options sound very appealing.

There is, of course, the obvious: being on his knees for Nut. Having this big man towering over him, telling him what to do, asking him questions simple enough for his pleasure-foggy brain to answer. Yes, please, more, Nut being the only words left in his vocabulary. Being ordered around and knowing he’ll be safe, because Nut’s got him and Nut is the most reliable man he has ever met.

But there is also the opposite, and there is something undeniably arousing about that as well. About Nut on his knees for Tan. Big man like him reduced to a moaning mess, collar around his neck and being pushed around with a leash. Obeying Tan’s every command like a good puppy. Nut already kinda looks like one, especially when he smiles—it always reminds Tan of a golden retriever when his nose scrunches up.

“I see.” Nut says. “Well, I’m sure we will find a use for this.”

He leaves the collar aside. Tan still stares at it intently for a moment, until Nut’s voice gets his attention again.

“Virgin strawberry.” Nut snorts.

Tan sees him holding a bottle of lube in his hand; pink, with a strawberry covered in whipped cream drawn on it. Not a bad find, by any means. They were running low on lube anyway. The name though... could use some work.

“Yet another thing I bought on a whim.”

“At least we know what to do with this one, don’t we?”

Nut leaves it at that, pushing the bottle aside alongside the rest of the toys.

What Nut pulls out next, Tan knew was going to come sooner or later.

“Oh!”

The stupid thighs, the stupid leather garters that Bambam somehow talked him into buying. And it didn’t take much convincing either, so clearly Tan was, at least, partly curious.

“I—those are for me.” Tan explains. But then he adds, “You can try them on if you want to though. It could be hot.”

‘Could’ is the understatement of the century. It would be fucking hot. Those things clinging to Nut’s thick thighs for dear life, the fabric stretching itself so thin it could rip with one bad move. The garters hugging the flesh, barely being able to fit around all that muscle and squeezing, hard leather and plush meat and—God, Tan is fucking salivating at the thought.

“Honey,” Nut brings him back down to Earth, “if I did that, I would rip them and you know that.”

Tan shrugs. “Sounds very hot.”

Nut gives his thigh a slap. Harsh enough to make Tan jump in place, but not harsh enough to hurt. The fact that he’s still wearing pants also helps. Who knows how long he’ll keep them on though, if things stay like this for long.

“Don’t be naughty now.”

Tan stays quiet like a good boy. Because he is one, most of the time.

(And maybe it’s all the thoughts he just had, but he finds himself wondering if Nut, were he in Tan’s position, would be a good boy.)

The next thing Nut pulls out is the gift blindfold.

“Dare I say again... classic.”

Tan doesn’t plan to explain the extremely contrived way in which he acquired it by pretending to be Bambam’s husband at the store (though, to be honest, they never said a word—it was the cashier who made asumptions, all he and Bambam did was run with it; nothing immoral about that little white lie).

In any case, it’s a pretty color: red, probably silk or satin. Nut won’t stop rubbing his thumb across the fabric, so Tan can only assume it’s also pleasant to the touch. All he can think about though, is how beautifully it stands out against Nut’s skin.

He doesn’t say anything for this one, merely cracks a smile and let’s Nut move in to the last item.

As it turns out, it’s also the most puzzling.

At first glance, it’s just a regular stack of cards. Black package, simple red letters that read ‘Dirty Thirty’ that make Tan raise an eyebrow. Considering where he got it, Tan has no doubt what it’s meant for—he’s just a little puzzled.

Of course, he knew about the classic dice games: ‘Lick ears’, ‘Kiss chest’, things like that. Card games though? Can’t say he’s familiar with those.

“Let me guess,” Nut says, “you bought this on a whim?”

“I mean, yes.” Tan concedes. He makes himself more comfortable on the couch, pulling both his legs up and sitting cross-legged. He looks at Nut with an anticipating smile. “But also, I didn’t know they made card games for sex. Looks fun though!”

That immediately gets a smirk out of Nut.

“So you want to give it a try?”

Tan pretends to be thinking it through, even though the answer has been clear for a while now. Since he walked into the house and saw Nut looking all disheveled, to be more specific. All this sex talk just got him even more excited, and Nut also seems to be in the mood after that. Probably imagined a bunch of graphic scenarios, just like him. Tan wonders if this means tonight will be a ‘fighting for dominance’ sort of night, if Nut will go all wild on him and mark him thoroughly like last time.

Finally, he shrugs and says, “Hey, maybe a game of cards will help you relax!”

That’s about everything it takes to convince Nut to play.

“Hmm... But there are no instructions in this thing.”

And Nut is right, there are none. He takes all the cards out of the package to take a look inside, see if they were hidden there, but no dice. The back of the deck doesn’t say anything useful, either—Tan takes a peek and all he can infer is something about this game doing wonders for one’s sex life. Something something spice things up in the bedroom, something something let loose, but always with previous consent.

Nice message, but not what they needed.

“It can’t be that hard to play a card game!” Tan claims, conveniently forgetting that he has sucked at card games his entire life. That one time he lost over a thousand baht playing poker with Bambam comes to mind. “Just—put the stack here and we’ll grab them one at a time, I guess?” He pats the empty space on the couch between them.

Nut thinks it over for a second before doing just that.

“Yeah, sounds logical enough.”

His voice still has this weary pitch to it. Not bored though, and he does have this smile on his face when he fully turns to look Tan in the eye. It almost makes Tan want to leave this game of cards for another day and be the big spoon for the night, cuddle Nut to sleep and hold him close to his chest, like Nut always does with him.

Something tells Tan that is not what Nut needs tonight though. Maybe the glint in Nut’s eye as he reshuffles the cards, getting a glimpse or two of the actions described in them. Maybe the way Nut tongues at his lips and shifts in place, and Tan can tell he’s having a hard time letting the cards go and having nothing to do with his hands, the way he hooks fidgety fingers on the beltloops of his jeans (Tan can’t fathom why he even bothers getting dressed all nicely if he won’t go out).

Or maybe it’s the deep breath Nut takes before giving him what Tan presumes is supposed to be a confident smile—however, it strikes Tan as...

Needy.

It could be that this is exactly what Nut needs, after all.

“So... Rock paper scissors to see who starts?”

“Really now?” Nut looks at him in amusement, almost expecting Tan to be joking. He’s not, and Nut realizes it rather quickly. “Fine, have it your way!”

It’s surprisingly easy to beat Nut at these types of games, and Tan takes a ridiculous amount of pride in winning at something so unimportant. He still celebrates when his scissors beat Nut’s paper first try though. Tan never claimed not to be a little childish still.

Only after the fact does he realize that winning also means the first draw is on him. And the first draw is, arguably, the most important. It’s what sets the tone for the rest of the game, and it can go spectacularly or spectacularly terrible.

For all intents and purposes, it’s a lot of responsibility. Tan feels it heavy on his shoulders when he reaches out to pick a card. He has to make this count.

He takes one deep breath. Then, he goes ahead and does it.

“Talk dirty to your partner until they can’t keep their hands off of you.” He reads off the card.

Well, he’s not usually much of a talker during sex, more of a moaner than anything. Though he does like talking to Nut when they are a little feral, a little gone already, and none of them have a filter so they just say whatever comes to their minds, no matter how filthy. And that’s easily the best sex they’ve ever had and the hardest Tan has ever cum in his life, but...

As it stands, Tan is still very much present in his own head. Improvisation has never been his forte, either. He kinda wants to say ‘fuck it’ and wing it anyway, just like he wants to ask Nut if he can get a do-over.

But when he looks at Nut to say just that, he can’t.

It’s the body language on him, again—the constant blinking, eyelashes fluttering; the expression that tries so hard to remain neutral, but still betrays Nut with how his lips twitch into the ghost of a smile, and it’s so fucking precious and Tan wants to see the whole thing, the nose scrunch with all teeth and no eyes. The way he keeps his hands moving, tugging at the beltloops or sometimes picking at some loose thread on his polo shirt. Nut looks, unequivocally, like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone.

Tan wants to say something silly to make him laugh.

Tan wants to say something so filthy it will make Nut whine.

He’s still in his own head for the most part, but he knows he’s also slowly but surely heading somewhere else. Somewhere different from his usual headspace of ‘mouthy pillow princess’. Somewhere that screams at him to do something that is not only laying there and taking it.

And Tan finds that he doesn’t dislike it. At all.

“Don’t laugh or we are never playing again.”

He warns Nut, knowing full well that would never happen, not in a million years. But it’s kinda doing things to him, saying those words out loud, then seeing Nut vehemently shake his head and follow it up with the sweetest, “I wouldn’t dare, darling!”

Not that Nut usually makes him feel weak during sex, simply helpless; the kind of helpless that’s also comforting and safe. But right now, if Tan had to describe how he feels in one word, it would be... powerful.

He can’t help the smirk, the sheer ego boost when he leans forward and Nut’s eyes go visibly wide for a moment and then his smile is not just a ghost, but the whole thing. Nose scrunch and all teeth and no eyes.

“You’re so handsome, Khru Nut.”

Better to start off small, seemingly innocent. Even that tiny comment gets a pleased little hum from Nut that makes something ravenous twist in Tan’s gut. Enough of an incentive to not shut up, try and get as many of those pretty noises out of Nut as he can.

“Sometimes I wonder why you went into teaching and not something more... profitable.” Still in safe territory, skirting around the actual words. He can still see Nut pressing his lips together, the skin on his arm growing goosebumps all over. How sweet. “With this body and this face? Shit, I’d be throwing you thousand baht bills too.”

He kind of cheats—takes advantage of a loophole more like, because the card didn’t say anything about Tan not being able to touch Nut. So he lands his hand on Nut’s thick thigh, the slapping sound loud enough to echo in the room and make Nut jump in place. He gives it a squeeze; delightfully, Nut makes a noise that he tries to disguise as just clearing his throat, but Tan’s brain registers it for what it is.

A moan. The cutest fucking moan Tan has ever heard.

God, this is doing things to Tan. He’ll have to send Bambam a fruit basket or something as thanks later.

“Then again I’m also kinda happy,” Tan makes a deliberate pause here, showing Nut a cat-like smile, “because that means I get to have you all by myself. Meaning this” Another thigh squeeze, “is all for me. And so is this.”

There is no masking the moan this time, and Tan can’t blame him; after all, he did just grab Nut’s dick out of the blue. Even with the pants in the way and everything, Tan can feel the twitch it gives at the sudden contact.

“Only I know how much of a whore you are. How insatiable.” And he is a little mean here, tightening his grip and making Nut throw him head back. Still no sign that he’ll give in and hand Tan the win though. So, Tan decides to go further. “You know, I’ve been thinking... would you like being tied up to the bed, being my toy for the day? Hard all the time, but only getting off when I decide you can?”

Nut’s breath hitches, and Tan pulls his hand away from his crotch, deliberately slowly. Dragging his fingers all the way until he’s made it to Nut’s inner thigh—and something comes to mind then.

“Or... maybe you’d rather be on all fours for me.”

The noise Nut lets out upon hearing that is straight out of a porno. Except there’s no exaggerated fanfare to it. More of a natural thing, and all the sexier because of it; Tan can’t stand the over the top theatrics, they get on his nerves rather than going to his dick.

But his beauty is a goddamn natural at this. Preening under the attention he’s receiving, trying so hard to cling to the last shred of his sanity to win at this little game. If Tan were less competitive, he would let him have this.

A shame that he isn't.

And besides, he wants to see how long he can take this. See if the hunch he has is right, after all.

“Maybe you’d rather give me your hole for once.” Tan pushes.

Nut tries to back away, but his back hits the armrest and Tan closes the gap again by leaning in closer. Seeing himself trapped, the only other option Nut has is to close his eyes, which he promptly does.

Like this, with his throat exposed, leaning back on his palms, undone buttons showing off his collarbone and a peek of the chest, long lashes touching up at his cheekbones, he looks like the most breath-taking piece of art Tan has ever seen. It takes all of his strength not to jump Nut right here and there and forget about the game.

Deep breaths, Tan reminds himself. Then, he wills himself to keep going.

“You’re also stressed, you deserve to be spoiled too. Well fucked and well looked after. I’d do that for you. I’d fuck you so, so good. But you’ll have to cum on my cock or not at all. Don’t worry though, I know you can!” And he smiles, all innocent. Looks at Nut with the biggest eyes he can muster, as if he isn’t spitting absolute filth, and... “I bet my little whore can take cock like a dream.”

Nut inhales sharply. Chokes on nothing. He opens his eyes, but refuses to meet Tan’s gaze, instead staring up at the ceiling. Tongues at dry lips as he searches, presumably, for something to say in response.

In the end, Nut setles for, “I’m not little.”

He is right, technically. Nut is anything but little—he’s big, takes up so many space and makes his presence known. It’s the Nut Tan fell in love with, with all that confidence oozing out of his body, heart too big and teddy-bear-soft. All those clothes that don’t fit, the strength to carry Tan over his shoulder when he’s too drunk to stand, to handle the heavy pans in the kitchen that Tan can’t flip with a single hand even if he tries to. And yet...

And yet, something in Nut’s voice sounds more disappointed than anything. Like Nut wants to be seen as ‘little’—when something is little, it’s cute; it’s precious and needs protection. Something that Nut certainly doesn’t, with all that muscle, opinionated and loud and unashamed.

Maybe that’s why.

Maybe what Nut really needs, as Tan ventured to guess, is a break from it all. That he doesn’t want to be the strong, doesn’t want to be the backbone of entire classrooms, and he has been nothing but that the entire day. For days on end, really. Hasn’t stopped being one even during term break. Of course, this all comes with the job, they both knew it when they got into teaching. Adult responsibilities, but doubled, basically.

But Tan gets that feeling, the wanting to feel small and helpless and without a care in the world. Safe, kind of floaty. That’s exactly how he feels when he is under Nut.

Tan figured it was only a matter of time before he got the chance to return the favor.

So he leans forward a bit more, till he is all up on Nut’s personal space. With his nose, he grazes Nut’s chin, and then come his lips. They barely touch Nut’s skin, and yet that chaste little kiss has Nut shivering, daring to look down at Tan through his lashes.

Their eyes meet and Tan smiles, knowingly.

“You will be when you’re on your knees for me.” He says bluntly, as if it’s already a fact. As if Nut has no other choice tonight.

“Fuck!”

Yet what Tan hears is Thank you.

Then, he has Nut’s arms wrapped firmly around his neck, pulling him in. Pushing his forehead against Tan’s smaller own, opening his legs wide with no regard for if the cards fall, just that he has Tan all up on him.

Nut kisses him like he’s hungry. Starving for it. Far from his usual prim and proper image, with too much spit and a clumsy tongue. Probably because he’s so desperate to take, take, take after being patient for those tortuous minutes that Tan spent riling him up. Their bodies pressed together—Tan can feel something hard against his hip, and he knows he has succeeded.

“You lost.” He murmurs with a shit-eating grin once Nut lets him go. Not too far though, only enough for Tan to be able to breathe.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nut mumbles, but he is smiling too. Getting giggly. He already looks and sounds a lot more relaxed just from this alone. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”

“I do my research.”

Not as much nowadays, he thinks to himself. Now that he is dating Nut, there is no need for it anymore. Every fantasy Tan may have, he knows Nut will be more than willing to fulfill it. No amount of unrealistic sexual situations and overexaggerated facial expressions and sounds will ever be able to compare.

As he returns to his corner of the couch and Nut re-organizes the cards they have scattered all over in their frenzy, Tan idly remembers those days where he did have the need for ‘research’. Specifically, the types of videos he would gravitate to. And he can’t help but notice the similarities with the present moment: big men on their backs, becoming needy messes under the expert hand of a man half their size. Perhaps the size difference between them isn’t as prominent, but...

In any case, the universe must have been reading Tan’s thoughts right at that moment. There is no other way to explain why Nut picks the card he does.

“Re-enact your favorite porn video.”

Tan’s mind blanks out. Because he really cannot imagine Nut watching porn at all. Even after he’s had sex with the man multiple times, picturing Nut jerking off to some over the top video with way too much budget for what it is feels... unnatural, is the word.

Nut fidgets with the card in his hands for a moment, worrying at his bottom lip. Pondering. In the end, he decides to come clean. “Will you believe me if I say I’ve never watched any?”

“Yeah.” Tan says. “But like, not even in passing?”

The red is quickly rising to Nut’s face. Mostly his ears—for some reason, his cheeks don’t seem to blush as easily as everyone else’s.

“I have a good enough imagination.” Nut shakes his head, avoiding Tan’s gaze for the most part. It’s the shiest Tan has ever seen him and it’s so... so goddamn cute, Tan can barely stand it. “That’s all I’ve ever really needed.”

“You are seriously so weird!”

And he rests his hand on Nut’s knee after he’s said that. A fond comment by all accounts, and Nut gets that, if the timid smile he gives Tan is anything to go by.

It’s so far removed from Nut’s usual behavior, not that Tan is complaining—it’s actually a privilege, seeing different sides of him outside of a professional setting. This shy Nut would never appear in front of the students who look up to him. Tan is different though; Tan is his boyfriend, his honey. Nut is never too much, too clingy. He is allowed to feel his emotions with Tan. He is allowed to say whatever he feels in the moment.

That must be why Nut is the one leaning forward now, closing the gap between them yet again.

“Maybe...” His voice breaks and he clears his throat. He sounds awfully nervous, but also... excited. “Maybe we could do something about that. Since you like your cameras so much.”

Unconsciously, Tan’s fingers dig on Nut’s thigh.

He can’t say he has never thought about it before. About how pretty Nut would look on camera, showing off like the world’s most handsome AV actor. Except no one would ever see those—Tan would keep them in his sweet little collection and go back to them from time to time, when Nut is not available and Tan has needs to attend to. Not that it happens often anyway.

“You are naughty, Khru Nut!” He teases, and his big grin quickly transfers over to Nut. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Oh, he will. He most definitely will. For the sake of experimenting, Tan tells himself.

But that will have to wait, since now it’s his turn to pick a card.

“Kiss your partner somewhere other than the lips.”

Well, at least he doesn’t have to think much about this one. He has kissed pretty much every stripe of skin in Nut’s body at least once, and though Tan absolutely adores all of him... he can’t say he doesn’t have a favorite.

“I think this will be easier if you take off your pants.”

Nut raises an eyebrow. His mind must be going all kinds of places, and righfully so. He still listens and does as he is told though.

Good boy. Tan doesn’t say it just yet, but he thinks, not for the first time, that Nut is exactly that. Perfect, so obedient. It surely hasn’t escaped Nut, smart as he is, how much Tan likes being told those words. Has cum so many times when Nut calls him his good boy.

It is, however, the first time he wonders if Nut would like hearing that.

Tan thinks, as he kneels between Nut’s spread thighs, not missing how his cock is already half-hard in his underwear, how Nut would react if he heard those words right now. Good boy, directed at him. Good boy, with Tan’s lips pressed firmly into his inner thigh, making him inhale sharply. Good boy, when they make eye contact once Tan gets back on his feet, both his hands on Nut’s broad shoulders and looking down at him with an adoring smile. He doesn’t plan to also kiss him on the lips, but when he has his good boy staring up at him with those big, expecting eyes... how can Tan refuse?

And Nut could put his pants back on now that it’s all done, but he doesn’t. He simply pushes them off to the side and waits until Tan is back on his side of the couch to pick a card again. What a good boy.

This time, it reads, “Share a fantasy with your partner.”

Again, Nut hesitates. Less than earlier though, far less. He’s growing less fidgety, more comfortable. Still easing up into the whole thing, but after a few rounds, Nut is starting to find this fun, starting to let the stress of the day melt away without worrying about having to go back to his desk eventually to wrap up the grading—because of course, he knows Tan won’t just let him off the hook so easily. Tan is so glad for it.

“I kind of...” Nut clears his throat. “I think your glasses are sexy.”

Tan can see where this is going a mile away. “You wanna cum on them.” He deadpans.

Nut chokes; clearly he didn’t expect such a blunt answer.

“... Yes.” He admits simply, as easy as breathing. “It might be better if you have a spare pair though. That doesn’t sound exactly simple to clean up.”

It doesn’t, Tan has to give him that. It actually sounds like such a pain in the ass. However, it also sounds way too good an idea to just disregard it. God, is he happy now that he didn’t throw away those old frames he used to wear, before his prescription got worse and forced him to change them. Something something one man’s garbage is that same man’s treasure years down the line.

“I do have spares. And that sounds hot enough for me to let you ruin them forever.”

And he gives Nut a quick peck as a way to seal the deal. Nut has the biggest grin on his face when he pulls away—Tan gets kind of lost into it and smiles a dumb smile himself. Has to poke around a bit, refusing to look away, until he finds the stack of cards and picks his next challenge.

“Do whatever your partner tells you to do.”

As soon as those words are out of Tan’s mouth, there is a flash of something in Nut’s eyes; of course, the neediness, back full force, but there’s something else there as well. Tan is not a language teacher for a reason, but if he had to guess, he would call it... longing. A want so raw, so deep-seated it makes Tan feel exposed in a way he’s never felt before.

“Fuck me.”

Tan’s brain freezes up. Error 404, the system needs a reboot. 

Except there’s no cable he can pull to forcefully reset it, and instead, he’s left to process Nut’s request with zero help from his brain-cells. Bastards are out on a Chiang Mai vacation or something, didn’t even send Tan a warning note or a postcard or something. Processing something this huge with a blank mind is near impossible.

Because yeah, sure, Tan has been thinking about that very thing for a while now. He just never expected it to actually come true. At least not tonight, considering Nut wouldn’t say no to trying everything at least once and there’s the off-chance that Tan would’ve found the courage to ask eventually.

Well, no need for courage now. Nut just put the offer on the table, and Tan would have to be a fool to let it slide.

Still, he wants to make sure first.

“Are you—Are you sure?”

The answer comes fast. Fast and a little whiny.

“Tan,” Nut breathes in, breathes out. Like this is taking him a lot of courage to ask, too, “please.”

And who is Tan to refuse an earnest request like that?

“Sure. Sure, yeah, what the fuck? Sure!”

The words barely make it out of his mouth before Nut jumps straight onto his lap, then his mouth. It’s far from their usual kisses, way more intense. Overwhelming; Tan isn’t used to having Nut’s big body on his, all ripe for the picking and asking him, begging him to take him apart. It’s almost too much, way too many options and Tan doesn’t know where to start touching. His hands just rest uselessly by his sides as he lets Nut feast on his mouth, letting out little whimpering noises when Tan snaps out of it just enough for his tongue to slide against Nut’s own.

Only when Nut pulls away to catch his breath, Tan does something smart and (tries to) think. Put his priorities in order, if you will.

In the end, before Nut can jump him for a round two, he concludes there’s only one good choice on what to do first.

“Have you ever—ever done this before?” Then, he mentally punches himself for not clarifying what this is supposed to be. “Not the sex part, I know you have. I mean like... With you not on top?”

“No.” Nut shakes his head. He already looks out of it, with this dazed look in his eye, lapping at his lips as if he’s trying to find some remnant of Tan still lingering on his skin. It takes all of Tan’s strength not to push him down and do heinous things to him, really. “No, never. Never, Tan, never.”

“And you still want me to...?”

“Don’t make me beg you.” Though he already was earlier. “Need this, need you. Please, Tan?”

Tan is but a man. He is a very simple creature, and his brain becomes even more simplified whenever Nut is concerned and there is a bed involved—though just this once, the couch will have to do. They’re definitely not gonna make it to the bedroom, not after that.

“You don’t have to beg me,” Tan reassures him. His hands finally respond, and they rush to Nut’s head, sparing a soft touch to his cheekbones before they go to his hair and start tracing soothing circles on his scalp, “I’m still going to eat you. Just wanted to make sure if I should treat you like my little whore or my sweet baby.”

He can’t help it, he really can’t.

It’s the way Nut reacts so beautifully whenever he drops the niceties and talks with no filter. And that happens naturally, it seems, when Tan is turned on. Maybe this is why he never went into this type of dirty talk territory during sex before they started the entire experimenting thing; maybe he was, deep down, a little worried that Nut would react way, way worse to the vulgarity. Prim and proper, nice teacher who refuses to ever curse himself? How could Tan not think that?

Now though—now he is realizing just how utterly wrong he was. Could be that Tan is trying to make up for all that lost time, somehow. Not that having regular, vanilla sex wasn’t enjoyable (but that’s because everything with Nut is).

So, the big bad words make it out and Nut squirms on his lap. Tan pulls at his hair slightly when he throws his head back and, again, he can’t help it, he really can’t. So he latches onto Nut’s wonderfully exposed neck and bites, though not as hard as he tends to.

Be nice, Tan reminds himself. He has to be nice. He wants nothing more than for tonight to be the first of many times they do it like this. Tan is definitely not going to have enough just being inside Nut once.

“I’ll give you what you need, baby, promise.”

And he presses his lips to where the blooming bitemark is, sucking on the red skin as a means of apologizing. Nut doesn’t complain. If anything, he tilts his head back even further, giving Tan more space to do as he pleases while Nut just clings to him for dear life.

“You’re so stressed. Let’s take that off your shoulders.” He moves up to Nut’s jawline, licks a stripe up his cheek. Nut sighs. The noise he makes strikes Tan as a confirmation that yes, please, I am so stressed, please please please, take care of me. “You deserve to have someone taking care of you, like you do for me. Well fucked and well looked after.”

Again, Nut squirms. Except this time, the rolls of his hips feels more... purposeful. Not just shivering in anticipation, but clearly looking for some friction with Tan’s thigh. There’s also no hiding the now very prominent hard-on and the wet patch that’s starting to form at the front. This wasn’t Tan’s intention when he asked Nut to take off his pants originally, but God, is he grateful that he did now. He wants to high-five himself or something equally as nonsensical.

Not now though. Not when he has his lap full with his needy boy.

Instead, one of his hands stills in Nut’s hair, while the other goes down to grab a handful of thigh. Sinks his fingers into the plush of it like Nut is a stress ball to be used, and Nut moans. He likes it, what a whore. Tan has to smile at the thought.

It’s also with that thought in mind that Tan, somehow, finds the strength to manhandle Nut onto his back, cards be damned. Tan thinks it’s him who throws them on the floor, or maybe it’s Nut when he opens his legs to allow Tan to crawl comfortably on top of him. Not that it matters: he’s too busy going back to kissing Nut again to care, except this time, Tan doesn’t just stay idle without a coherent thought.

It’s Tan who leads this time, while Nut just reacts; moaning in Tan’s mouth when he sucks on Nut’s tongue, a sharp inhale when Tan sneaks a hand under Nut’s shirt to shamelessly grope at his tits, a whimper when Tan bites his bottom lip.

A whine when Tan pulls away just enough to breathe. To take a good look at Nut, already falling apart before him and pridefully smiling because he did that. He is doing this to Nut. And he can’t help but feel like he’s on top of the fucking world right now—in a way, he is. On top of his world, anyway.

“No one’s ever had you like this, seriously?”

There’s not an ounce of jealousy or anything like that in Tan’s voice. More like fascination. One that only grows when Nut shakes his head.

“No.” He manages out. “They all thought... thought I exclusively top. Because of how I l-look.”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.” Tan bites his tongue to avoid spewing the many insults he’s got for that bunch of fucking idiots. It’s better this way anyway, he thinks. If they were stupid enough to let Nut go, they wouldn’t have known how to take care of him properly. Tan does. And Tan can. “Big guys like you look fucking gorgeous split open on a cock. With all this muscle, you were literally built for it!”

Nut makes an embarrassed little noise that is so fucking adorable it makes Tan want to eat him up. Even more, that is. Tan can only guess he has never been talked to like this, with this tinge of condescension but so, so full of care at the same time. Of adoration. And it makes Tan angry, because someone like Nut deserves to have the ground they walk on worshipped.

But this isn’t the time to be getting angry. It’s time to make this memorable for his baby.

The first thing to go is Nut’s shirt. It’s useless and bothersome to have it on the way, especially when he’s already naked from the waist down. Well, not exactly naked, but the underwear isn’t going to last too much longer on.

For now though, he’ll let Nut keep it. Tan has so much exposed skin to enjoy right now to have fun with.

That’s exactly what he does: bite and lick and suck whatever spot isn’t still marked from their last night of fun—Tan does smile like the proud bastard he is when he sees those bitemarks that still haven’t quite faded, some of them beginning to scar because he couldn’t be normal, he just had to go and break the skin while he was at it. But Nut never uttered a complaint, so Tan can only assume that he likes it, the pain, the reminder, as much as he does.

As much as he usually likes dwelling on this part (Nut has really made him love the foreplay, he notices), he’s also so eager.

He moves from the top to the bottom part (not without giving Nut’s nipples one bite each, so they get some attention) rather quickly, and with how hard Nut visibly is, Tan can tell he is close. And the prideful feeling hits again, because this is all his doing, and to be fair, Tan hasn’t even done that much yet. Nut must’ve been real pent-up. Tan wonders just how long he has been thinking about this, about being the one who lies down and takes it, having all control ripped off from him because Tan knows him well enough to know what’s best for him. He is big, but right now, looking down through his lashes at Tan as he cups Nut’s painfully hard dick with a sickly-sweet smile, he’s oh, so small. Tan could just eat him up.

And he will.

Nut’s cock gives an adorable twitch once Tan gets him out of that uncomfortable underwear. He tries to close his legs when Tan touches the sensitive tip with one single finger, to get that bead of precum just begging to get wiped off, but Tan’s free hand grips Nut’s knee hard to keep them spread.

“Keep them open.”

Tan is still smiling, but his tone is a warning. Nut swallows and just nods, rather meekly.

It’s a rush, truly. Turning a big, calm and collected man like Nut into this submissive little thing offering his body as Tan’s shiny new plaything. And it should make him feel pressured, knowing the burden of making this good for Nut rests solely on his shoulders, but it just... doesn’t. And maybe it doesn’t because Tan knows—he knows this is going to be good, with the same certainty that he knows he’s going to die one day or that he loves Nut more than life itself.

He trusts himself to make this good. And he does because Nut has had the time, the patience and the love to help him build up that confidence. Maybe, in a way, this is Tan’s way of repaying him.

Right, now it’s not the time for soul-searching.

Instead, the first thing Tan can think to do is wrap a hand around Nut’s cock. It throbs, hot and heavy against his palm, and Tan feels tempted to get a taste. So he does. One long lick from top to bottom, and as a bonus, he gently suckles on the head for barely a moment. Then, he pulls away.

He doesn’t want Nut cumming too early, even if Tan knows he has the stamina to go again almost immediately afterwards. He wants Nut desperate, begging and helpless. To go as close as possible to breaking him before craddling him protectively into his arms to fix him right up, mending the cracks and leaving him feeling as good as new. Like nothing was ever wrong at all. A clean slate. Just like Nut does to him, and that’s the best way Tan can think to describe it; like being ripped apart, piece by piece, and being conscious through it all, but not minding and never complaining because the other person is handling the knife so sweetly and making that unnamed itch within himself go away.

If such a thing is even possible to replicate, and not just something Nut has mastered after years, then Tan is going to try his best.

So, he leaves Nut’s aching cock alone and moves. A bit further down, where Nut’s hole looks all pink and tight. At times like these, Tan pats himself on the back for always carrying a packet of lube in his back pocket ‘just in case’—it would feel criminal to leave Nut here all alone as he awkwardly rushes into the bedroom to grab their regular bottle, especially when Tan himself is also hard as hell. No condoms though, not that that sounds at all like a bad thing.

With an amused smile playing on his lips, Tan meets Nut’s embarrassed gaze and asks, “Have you at least played with yourself like this, baby?”

Nut vigorously shakes his head. Tan kind of saw that coming, but he still feels a little sad. Oh, the poor thing.

“T-Tried once, but didn’t—didn’t feel that good.” Nut tries to explain, and he has to cut himself off to break the eye contact. His ears look like ripe tomatoes at this point. “Didn’t like it.”

“That’s a shame! I was gonna ask you to show me how you do it.” That’s not entirely true though; Tan would’ve asked to prep him regardless of his answer. But what Nut doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and he still gives Nut a choice. “You wanna try again, or should I do it?”

“You.” Nut’s words are out of his mouth before Tan even finishes. “You, you, only—only want you.”

There’s no fighting back the playful grin anymore.

He’s always thought Nut was handsome, hot, capable. Big and strong too, yeah. But then there is this other side to him that no one except Tan will ever get to see, and it makes Tan so stupid giddy, because this Nut is needy. He is cute, and he is not in control for once. Tan doesn’t mind breaking away from the pillow princess role unfairly attributed to him (“Shut up Nut, I refuse to be called that!” “Whatever you say, honey”) to take care of his precious boyfriend like this every once in a while, perhaps more.

“My needy baby!”

Nut throws an arm over his face, but it’s for naught: he’s red down to his neck. Tan wants to find out if his whole body can blush like this.

His own clothes quickly join Nut’s on the floor, leaving them both on level playing field. Thankfully, Tan is smart enough to remember grabbing the lube packet before he kicks off his pants.

He mimics what he has seen Nut do a thousand times when they have sex, squirting the lube on his fingers and warming it up first. Maybe for longer than necessary, but better safe than sorry. He’d rather have Nut arching his back in pleasure when he eases the first finger in than Nut kicking him in the face because the lube is too cold.

Thank God, it’s the former which happens.

For a moment, all he does is leave his finger in. No moving, no thrusting. Letting Nut get used to it before Tan is allowed to let loose. It already feels so painfully tight just around his finger, Tan honestly doesn’t know how he is supposed to come out of this alive—Oh, well. Not the worst way to go he can think of. In fact, it’s on the top three for sure.

It takes a bit, but eventually, Nut is moving on his own. Squirming, more like. And Tan takes that as the sign to push in a second, and less than a minute later, a third finger.

“That’s it.” Tan breathes, pushing his fingers in as deep as they’ll go. Nut’s breathing is shallow, the air getting punched out of his lungs into fucked-out little noises. God, he’s so fucking cute. “That’s it, look at you. This is what you needed, wasn’t it, baby? Getting all soft just from some fingers—Hey, do you think you can take four? You made me take four the other day, didn’t you? So? You wanna try? See how full it makes you feel?”

“Don’t be... D-Don’t be m-mean, please...”

“Oh? I just asked a question though!” Tan’s face hurts from smiling, but he can’t help it. “If I were mean, I would take my fingers out and tell you to put on a show for me.”

But that’s an idea for another day. They’ve got plenty of time.

Tan is not mean enough to make Nut take four fingers on his first time anyway. He keeps it to three, and he makes sure to keep his movements slow and controlled. Until Nut stops making noise, which is when Tan takes the hint and goes harder to make him really moan for it. The poor thing is clawing at the couch and gritting his teeth, his eyes shut and taking sharp breaths through his nose. How adorable. Nut doesn’t say it, but Tan has been in that position enough times to know the telltale signs.

“You gonna cum, baby? Cum just from my fingers? Without even touching your cock?” There’s a mix of surprise and endearment in his voice. “God, baby, that’s so fucking hot. You’re so fucking hot. Go on, baby, do it, cum on my fingers.”

Nut doesn’t need to be told twice. Such a good boy, everytime without failing, no matter if he’s topping or not.

Clearly, Nut is already gone. His eyelids flutter open, revealing watery, unfocused eyes. His jaw finally unclenches, mouth hanging open and focusing on catching his breath. The pink of his tongue peeks through his teeth, and Tan... maybe he was lying about not being that mean, because seeing that, his first impulse is to scoop Nut’s cum off his stomach with his fingers and take them to Nut’s mouth so he’ll suck them clean.

He does. What a good boy.

“Tastes good, baby?”

“Mhm...”

“Aww, you’re already going dumb on me?” Tan doesn’t wait for an answer. He knows it won’t come. “That’s okay, baby. You’ve done enough thinking for today—now you lie back and let Khru Tan do the thinking for you.”

Nut blinks, confused. Tan has asked him repeatedly to not call him that outside of school, now he’s doing it willingly?

Tan thinks this scenario is pretty appropriate though, so he makes a concession.

“K-Khru Tan?”

“Yeah, don’t you like it?” Tan asks. He pushes the hair out of Nut’s face, even if it’s nowhere near close to obscuring his vision. Just an excuse to touch him, really. “My dumb, pretty baby. You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart, promise. Khru Tan’s got you. Just say what you want, Khru Tan will give it to you.”

Nut looks up at him, still a little shaken and misty-eyed from his orgasm, his mouth agape. Like Tan is some sort of God offering him the world on a silver platter. That's pretty much how Tan sees Nut when the roles are reversed.

“... A kiss?” Nut’s voice is small, shy.

Tan smiles at him.

“Of course, sweetheart. You can always have a kiss.”

Not with tongue this time though. He wants to give Nut a moment to come to his senses, and shoving something down his throat would have the opposite effect.

Instead, he starts absentmindedly playing with Nut’s hair, looking down at him adoringly as he asks, “Anything else?”

“Khru Tan.” He says simply, dopey smile and all.

“Hm? You’ll have to be more specific, baby.” Tan is teasing. He knows very well what Nut meant, he just wants to play hard to get for a change. “Maybe you want... my fingers again?”

“No!” Nut kicks him on the hip, but it’s a weak one. “You know...”

“But I have to make sure! What if I do something my baby doesn’t like? I’d never forgive myself!”

“I would let you.” Nut murmurs, though not low enough that Tan won’t hear. His smile is shaky around the edges, but happy nonetheless. “Let you do a-anything to me.”

“Shit, baby, don’t say those things.” Tan forces himself to hold back digging his fingers in Nut’s hips. Surely it’ll bruise by tomorrow. “You know how dangerous that is? Just offering yourself up like this to me?”

“But I know Khru Tan will—Khru Tan will take care of me.”

Yeah, Tan is going to die today. One way or another, he is. It’ll all be Nut’s fault, but he’s so adorable that Tan’s last will would be for no one to hold this against his pretty boy. He is not even mad, really.

He takes a deep breath. Grabs Nut’s hips harder. Focus.

“I will, pretty boy. I will, fuck, I’m gonna take such good care of you.”

Nut took his fingers just fine earlier, but Tan still pushes in slow and carefully. One of his hands crawls over Nut’s stomach, as if he could physically feel his cock through everything—he can’t, but there’s something hot about pretending he can, pressing down a little for extra effect. When he does, Nut whines; he alternates between pressing his lips together and biting at them, until Tan’s cock is all the way in and he sighs, as if in relief.

“How does it feel, baby?” He asks, still stroking Nut’s abdomen. “Khru Tan’s cock is inside you, the whole thing. Does it feel good? You feel full?”

Oh, he definitely does, but he’s too fucked out to speak. Tan sure feels like he’s being suffocated; Nut is tight and clenches even harder around him if that’s possible, not to mention burning hot. If this is how Nut feels everytime he’s inside him, Tan is surprised he hasn’t at least passed out once.

“So good you can’t even speak, can you?” He smiles and, feeling particularly merciful, leans forward to peck Nut’s lips again. “But Khru Tan can’t also do that for you, sweetie. I need words.”

“G-Good...” He finally moans out. “S-So good, Khru Tan’s so good to me.”

Focus, Tan. Don’t lose it yet, be nice to him. Fuuuck...

“Khru Tan loves you, baby.” It’s a slip of the tongue, but it’s also the truth “You’re perfect, fuck, look at you—”

He is already close, but tries to hold back as best as he can. Nut deserves more than two minutes of erratic thrusting, and besides, it shouldn’t be too hard to fuck him into overstimulation. Tan can already picture him falling apart in his head and fuck, what a gorgeous picture it is.

But between that and Nut’s non-stop moaning (borderline screaming, Tan would take pity on the neighbors under different circumstances), plus his arms thrown around Tan’s neck to keep him close, Tan is struggling to keep it together. Might also have to do with him refusing to close his eyes so he can stare at Nut, except when Nut’s tongue comes out to lick his lips and Tan takes advantage of it for open-mouthed, messy kisses. But how can he not play dirty like that when Nut clenches impossibly tighter with every kiss?

“More! More, more, mor—Ah!”

It’s when Nut pulls away from one of those kisses, with saliva dripping down his chin and body glistening with sweat, that he cums again. Tan would make him suck on his fingers again if he wasn’t teetering on the edge himself.

Still, he has the nerve to say, “Already?” With an arrogant smile and all.

As if in revenge, Nut claws at his back. If Tan was more in his own head, he’d be able to tell if his shoulder tattoo got caught in the crossfire or not, but that’s the last of his priorities when he’s trying hard not to...

“N-Nut loves Khru Tan too.”

Oh.

Call Tan a sap, but he doesn’t stand a chance against something like that—earnest confession from the love of his life, and that’s all it takes for him to cum. A somehow still rational part of his brain wonders if Nut did this on purpose, wanting Tan to fill him up now instead of being so selfish, so mean that he keeps going and withholding it from him.

In short, Nut won, but Tan hasn’t exactly lost. Something something fifty-fifty.

The couch is already messed up and probably needs to be dry-cleaned entirely, but Tan decides to at least have some decency and not pull out. It feels nice, just lying on top of Nut with his cock still deep inside him. Warm. Even cozy.

“Age is really catching up to us.” Tan murmurs in the crook of Nut’s neck.

“We were excited.” Nut says as a means of justification. “Good enough excuse.”

“Yeah, I’d say.”

He takes a deep breath. Despite everything, Nut still smells good. His usual sandalwood scent kind of seeps through the heavy sex and sweat. Tan wishes they didn’t have to eventually do essential things; he would stay like this forever if he could.

But reality hits hard when the neck cramps start, and as he reluctantly pulls away from his hiding spot, the mess of sex toys still on the table stare back at him. Oh look, I wouldn't have had to get up for lube at all. Would've been good to remember that earlier. It’s only hitting him now just how hungry he actually is, too. He can vaguely remember coming home thinking of banana pancakes and red chicken curry, and fuck, does that sound amazing right now.

Only they'll have to be takeout this time. No way is he going to leave Nut do anything but rest after what they just did.

“We should tidy up a bit.” Tan sighs. “And eat something, too. I’m starving.”

Nut seems to have other ideas though.

“You can eat me, Khru Tan.”

The wide grin on his face tells Tan that he is not joking.

That’s certainly one way of solving the problem. 

“Yeah? Well, don’t mind if I do! But remember,” He steals yet another peck from Nut. Then, against his lips, he whispers, “be careful what you wish for, baby.”

Like that, Nut’s arms are back where they belong: around Tan’s neck, pulling him close, till their noses are against one another, and his answer is as no-nonsense as it gets.

“Make me cry.”

Oh, Tan is so going to make him regret saying that.