Chapter Text
Since Pat and Pran became boyfriends, they haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other.
It started off innocently at first, with an occasional interlocking of pinkies when passing each other in the hallways or a quick sniff kiss on the cheek when they thought no one was looking. Of course, they were supposed to be faking being broken up, but there was also something else that made their hearts race when they did these little things in public.
One night, after the echoes from their moans were absorbed by the same four walls and sweat that clung to their skin was rinsed down the drain, Pran plops down onto the freshly made bed and sighs happily to himself, reaching for his phone as he waits for Pat to join him. He sees Pat out of the corner of his eye as he dries his hair sloppily, shaking drops of water onto the floor like the dog that he is. Pran can’t even be troubled by it, however, there’s that familiar tingle he gets when Pat does something that Pran finds endearing.
“Whatcha looking at?” Pat asks as he joins Pran on their bed, immediately crowding Pran’s space like he always does. Pran hums as Pat mindlessly rubs the exposed skin above the waistband of Pran’s pants. It’s gentle enough not to tickle but hard enough for that tingle to spring back to life. Pran tries to focus on the article he has pulled up on his phone, but fails when Pat scoots closer to ‘look at Pran’s phone’ . “I just had a..ah,” Pran breathes, eyes closing suddenly from the small circles Pat draws against his skin, occasionally allowing his fingers to brush under Pran’s waistband.
Pat pretends to be clueless about what he’s doing to Pran, but in his mind, he screams loudly about how sensitive Pran is to his touch. “You just…what?” Pat questions innocently, lightly dragging his fingers against Pran’s hip bone that peeks out of his skin with each deep exhale. “Pat,” Pran whispers, “don’t tease me. We just got ready for bed.” Pat smiles and covers the exposed skin so he isn’t tempted anymore, “My faen gets worked up so easily, good thing I have the stamina to keep up.”
Pran turns a deep shade of pink and shoves Pat playfully, averting his eyes to hide his sudden embarrassment. Pat knows how Pran gets, trying to hide his obvious feelings as if Pat is the same clueless guy he was before he realized his feelings, and counters the shove by climbing on top of Pran. Pran squeals and squirms under the startling weight, but Pat only pins him down harder, a smug expression written all over his face.
They wrestle like this for a moment or so before they are both panting from the exertion of energy they don’t have. Pran finds Pat’s eyes looking directly down at him, hooded and fierce with a hint of that animalistic glow Pran has always been weak for and a sense of boldness washes over him. “Have you heard of exhibitionism?” Pran questions, eyeing the way Pat’s lips lift upward in the corner.
“I have,” Pat responds matter-of-factly, expecting Pran to be surprised by this knowledge. He isn’t, unfortunately. Pran raises an eyebrow curiously as he nods. “Why do you ask?” Pat inquires, lowering himself to rest on his forearms instead of the palms of his hands. Pran bites a lip, averting his eyes. He knows Pat would never judge him or make him feel bad about anything, but it doesn’t change the pitter-patter of his heart as he processes what he’s about to admit to him. Pran exhales before speaking, “I…I’m into that ...I think.”
Pat is grinning ear to ear and part of Pran wants to hide under the covers for the rest of eternity for admitting that out loud. Another part of Pran, however, tingles . “I kinda figured,” Pat says nonchalantly. Pran’s eyes widen and Pat is quick to explain before he reverts back into himself. “You let me do anything to you when we’re in public and never tell me to stop or that it makes you uncomfortable,” Pat pauses to reach for Pran’s hand and proceeds to rub comforting squiggles along the lines imprinted in his palm. “You might shove or swat me away, but your eyes beg me to keep going.”
Pran chokes. The tingles intensify as if his insides are beginning to boil over from the heat of Pat’s accusation. Pat can’t help but laugh a little at the state Pran is in just from a few simple words. “I don’t mind,” Pat reassures, now slightly dragging his nails along the sensitive skin on Pran’s palm causing a tsunami of goosebumps to dance across Pran’s arms. “I’m also into that… I think ,” Pat adds teasingly.
He is eager to keep Pran on the edge of this metaphorically flustered and hyper-sensitive cliff, so he continues to assault Pran with his sensually electric touches and suggestive words. “I bet I could bend you over a table in the middle of the Canteen, surrounded by people and you’d take it willingly.”
Pran can’t breathe. He’s convinced he’s going to need CPR soon. Pat is on a mission though, he has a point to prove and needs to hear Pran moan it . Pat shifts himself upwards now so that he is only a few centimeters away from Pran and those throbbing red lips he keeps chewing on. There’s a painfully obvious tent forming in both of their sleep pants, and Pat wonders for a second if his words alone could make Pran cum.
“I think there’s a term for that too,” Pat murmurs as he leans in just enough for his lips to graze Pran’s bottom lip as he speaks. He can feel that Pran is clearly holding his breath like he knows what's coming next but doesn’t want Pat to stop. So predictable, Pat thinks for a moment, gloating to himself silently. He doesn’t continue speaking though, he wants Pran to ask. He wants Pran to beg .
Pran tilts his chin towards Pat just enough that if one of them were to lean in just a little more, their lips would be slotted beautifully, “Oh? Enlighten me, please, ” he purrs. Pran’s breath infiltrates Pat’s senses, filling his airways with spearmint and a hint of something authentically Pran. He licks his lips generously, hoping to taste Pran’s intoxicating air before answering.
“You’re cock hungry ,” Pat states like this is already common knowledge. Pran forms a mischievous smile. There’s a twinkle of that familiar competitive side reflecting in his eyes; Pat is enthralled by the sight. Pran curves a hand around the back of Pat’s neck while he eye-fucks his boyfriend like he is preforming some type of erotic hypnosis. It’s working.
As the skillful fingers entangle themselves around Pat’s hair, Pat thinks he is leading up to a kiss, so he closes his eyes in anticipation. On the contrary, Pran only uses this newfound leverage to drag Pat’s head down so his lips can brush against an earlobe as he speaks, “You have no fucking idea.”
That night a new pact was made, sealed by wet hot kisses and impatient hands. They agreed to take each other in every possible way and every possible place . No boundaries, no hard lines, no rules .