Archive of Our Own

The crowd tearing their throats apart screaming their names, the applause and loud growls of their teammates every time they hit the hoop in a clean, perfect move. Their strong, powerful aura embracing the court, fan girls euphoric each time their faces appeared at the big screen.

Known for being the MVP and star of their own basketball team, but also the worst enemies on and off the field: Thomas and Kong.

Their rivalry was arrogant and violent, the tension lingering in the air was so thick people fell quiet every time they got near each other, the silence becoming too overwhelming. The glances—so resentful and hateful, cursing under their breath when they bumped into each other. The same thing happening over and over again in every match they had.

Two weeks after the last match, Kong has been training more than he normally would. Today is definitive—because it’s the day that it will be known whether his team will advance to the semifinals or it will be totally disqualified.

So now, he was sitting on the team’s bench, listening to the coach while he rearranged his socks. His mind was focused on winning, it didn't matter how many bodies he had to bump into, or how many faces he had to yell at. 

This was their only chance. 

His chance.

And Kong was not going to waste it. 

Because he wanted to prove he was better—and will always be.

The coach finished talking as they heard the whistle coming from the court, a sign the match was about to start, and with confident steps and a strong aura, he positioned himself in the court along with his teammates.

A loud Bip echoed through the entire building, starting with the match right away. Players moved around with steady, smooth steps. But Kong was smoother, faster—solid, quick steps, approaching the rival team, shoes squeaking against the polished floor. Gasps and cheerings from the crowd went both ways.

Kong was solid, effortlessly calm. His moves were measured, clean, like he knew every pattern of the rival team.

5 points in. 

Kong’s.

The rival team moved like animals haunting their prey. 

But Kong was the one who owned the court.

However, as the minutes passed, Kong could feel the ache in his shoulders and the burn in his legs. The extra effort he and his team has been putting was taking its claim. And the rival team noticed, and took advantage of it—scoring points, making Kong angrier.

The pressure was unbearable.

The air inside the gym was thick with shouting, feet pounding, whistles echoing. The scoreboard read 57-57 now. Less than a minute left.

And even though Kong was exhausted and his body was screaming to rest—he moved like instinct. Fast, sharp, eyes scanning the court with laser focus. His uniform clung to his skin, soaked in sweat, but he didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. Not now. The national semifinals were one shot away. One mistake from slipping through their fingers.

The ball moved between his teammates like a secret. Hands, dribbles, fake-outs. Kong positioned himself at the top of the arc, calling for it—demanding it with his presence alone. 

The pass came.

He caught it cleanly.

The defense collapsed on him, but he didn’t flinch. One pivot. One side step. Kong drove inside, heart pounding in rhythm with the crowd’s rising roar. He jumped. Released.

The ball spun.

And hit the rim.

Out.

The crowd gasped. Kong landed, furious. He clenched his jaw as the opposite team grabbed the rebound and sprinted down the court. 

Twenty seconds left. No time to think.

Kong ran back, cutting off the path like he knew it by heart. A teammate forced a bad pass. Kong saw it before it happened—leapt forward, intercepted. He didn’t celebrate. He just ran.

Ten seconds.

He dribbled fast down the left side. A defender came to meet him. He didn’t slow. A swift crossover—gone.

Five seconds.

He went up. No hesitation.

This time, it was clean.

Swish.

The buzzer screamed as the ball fell through the net.

59-57.

They had done it.

Kong stood beneath the hoop, chest heaving, as his teammates rushed him, shouting, hugging, pulling him into the noise. He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked up at the scoreboard, eyes wide with disbelief, letting it sink in.

They were going to the semifinals.

As the team moved to their side and celebrated, Kong walked to the lockers, wanting to wash away the sweat and pressure off his body. But before he even opened the door to the locker room to find his bag, he heard people inside—they were talking.

He could have just entered, but something caught his attention. They were not just talking. 

They were talking about Thomas.

“... They say he’s not really who people think he is.”

“Who? Thomas?”

“Yeah. Heard a girl complaining about him the other day.”

“Complaining? I thought girls were all over him.”

“Apparently not. She seemed pretty pissed—said they were making out, found out he was a virgin, and totally freaked.”

Kong’s mouth opened in surprise.

Thomas?  

The Thomas? 

“No way. Are you serious? The top basketball player’s a virgin? Damn… that’s a hit to his reputation.”

Kong didn’t waste a second and pushed the door open—the laughter fading as his footsteps drew closer.

“You do realize talking about someone’s private life is pathetic, right?” he said, voice flat as he walked past them without a glance. He opened his locker, pulled out a towel. “You’ve got nothing better going on, so you dig into someone else’s sex life? Guess that makes your own lives just as empty.” 

The locker slammed shut with a sharp metallic thud. Kong finally turned to face them, expression calm, almost bored. The men just looked at each other and bowed to him, apologizing and walking out the door with quick steps.

Kong was then left alone, he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyed.

Then, it hit him.

Kong chuckled, hands on his waist, head leaned backwards. 

“A virgin, huh? Interesting…” he murmured to himself, “Brace yourself, Thomas. Whoever laughs last, laughs best.” Kong headed to the showers, a mischievous smile lingering on his face. 

Oh, this is going to be so fun.

-

The next day, Kong went to train like he normally did. The finals were next week, and if he wanted to defeat the rival team, he had to train more—be more efficient and effective. 

The gym was open to the public, but Kong was alone—it was still early in the morning, and people didn’t show up until past eleven. 

So he took his time practicing shots from different areas. He was fast, but never sloppy. He moved like almost inhuman precision, each motion clean and perfectly executed. 

Every shot went right into the rim. Kong smiled to himself. 

Satisfied. Proud.

But then—he was alone . 

He needed to think like he was in the court. So he took a deep breath, and started moving. The only sounds that echoed through the empty stadium were the bounces of the ball and his shoes squeaking against the polished floor, along with the sound of his heavy breathing and gasps.

Kong moved like a shadow—quick, neat. Almost imperceptible.

He shot at the rim.

In.

Kong smiled victoriously.

A loud clap was heard from a distance, making him flinch.

Then, a voice.

“Good shot. Gotta keep practicing if you want to win us over in the finals.” 

That voice. That tone. 

He could recognize it everywhere.

Kong turned to his side, only to encounter his rival at the other side of the court—Thomas. 

His brows furrowed, already irritated.

“Your team qualified?” Kong asked as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. He followed Thomas with his gaze, watching how he walked towards the grandstands and dropped his bag.

Thomas chuckled. “Are you surprised?” 

“No actually”

“You sound like you didn’t expect me to be the one defeating you” 

“And you sound like you’ve already won. How smug.” 

“I’m just self-confident.” Thomas had his elbows resting on the top bench, legs slightly spread. And that cocky, imperious look on his face.

“I call that arrogant”

Kong walked towards the bench, where his bag was. 

“Leaving already?”

“Yes. I’m not wasting my time with you.” he said without glancing back at him, sliding the bag over his shoulder.

“Oh baby , with me, the last thing you’d do is wasting your time.”

Kong faced him with furrowed brows. “First—I’m not your ‘baby’. Second—what makes you so confident?”

“Your reaction” Thomas stood up with his hands in his pockets and walked towards him, stopping when he found himself in front of Kong. Thomas lifted his brow in delight.

Kong tilted his head to the side in confusion. “And what’s my reaction, if I may know?” he said as he crossed his arms. A challenging tone in his voice. 

Thomas looked a little too amused by the person in front him. He grinned. “Because I know that whatever I say, affects you” 

And Kong almost lost his composure. Because he had hit it right in the nail. Because it does affect him, and he hates it.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he lied.

“Yet” Thomas lifted his brow.

“You’re speaking nonsense. I’m leaving” 

When Kong was about to turn around, an arm stopped him.

“You know I’m right, Kong” 

“You know—” he released his hand from Thomas’ grip, then smirked at him. “you seem very confident, in sports at least. In other things, I don’t think so.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me—” Kong stepped closer, “people are spreading rumors” Kong shrugged.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about”

Kong chuckled, enjoying his reaction a little too much. 

And then, he remembered something. “You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Kong looked at him with a smirk, awaiting. But Thomas didn’t respond right away, he had an impartial look on his face before a winning smile curved his lips, arms crossed and taking a step forward, slow, deliberate, making Kong step back immediately. 

“And what if I am? Are you curious?”

Kong swallowed hard. “W—What? No, I’m not” 

“But you seem eager to know, that’s why you brought it up.” 

“I said I’m not.” Kong replied with a cold tone, hardly keeping his composure. But his erratic heartbeat and flushed cheeks were already noticeable. A strange feeling rose in his chest. And he already hated it.

Thomas chuckled at his reaction. “You’re really cute when you’re not cursing me out”

His heart skipped a bit. Heat rushed to his face.

He said, what?

“What are you—” Kong shook his head slightly and blinked fast, thinking he could’ve heard wrong. Then he chuckled. “You’re insane, Thomas. Don’t say things like that, or I won’t respond so nicely next time.”

“And what will you do? Hit me?” Thomas laughed in a teasing way.

“If it doesn’t work then I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.”

***

The big day arrived.

The day where it will be decided which team will qualify to the finals.

Kong was anxious.

Fuck, he was terrified .

Not because he wasn’t good enough, but because he was scared his body betrayed him. One wrong move and it was over . He couldn’t afford making any mistakes, not now. He had to be smooth, neat, fast.

Perfect.

Living up to his nickname—The Ace.

Kong found himself looking at his reflection in the mirror. The lockers were empty, everyone was already in the court, minutes away for the match to start. The noise coming from outside the lockers made it hard for him to concentrate.

His last encounter with Thomas was annoying enough to put him out of his tracks. Because he had said a bunch of nonsense. Nonsense that stirred up his chest, feeling something warm like an embrace—no. Something warm like a wildfire spreading throughout his entire body. 

Thrilling. Dangerous. 

Deadly. 

Something that if he noticed, it will be over.

Kong shook his head and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Then, slowly exhaled. He repeated it five times.

His mind was now only paying attention to his breathing, slow and deliberate. The outside noise had quietened, he could only hear his fast-beating heart. Calmly, he opened his eyes back, encountering his reflection.

“You can do this, Kong…” Kong cheered to himself in a low voice only he could hear. “You can win this.”

“Didn’t know hearing The Ace giving self-encouragement would be so adorable.”

Kong stood still. 

His hands gripped the edge of the sink tighter. His jaw clenched.

“Didn’t know the MVP of their team would be such an asshole.” Kong spat, cold. Looking through the mirror at his worst nightmare—Thomas.

The smug, playful look on his face made his stomach twist with anger, blood boiling hot.

Because he looked so stupidly handsome just standing there with a pleased smile. 

Because Kong hated that it affected him this much.

So he could only sigh and tilt his head forward, making little strands of hair fall over his forehead.

Just ignore him. 

Ignore him.

Kong heard footsteps getting closer, stopping right behind him. And then, “Just wanted to wish you luck.” Kong raised his face, meeting his eyes through the large mirror. 

“Mm, are you finished? If so, you can go.” he replied, dry, distant.

“Can’t even say ‘thank you’? Why are you always like this?”

“Thomas—I really don’t wanna do this right now. Please, leave.” 

The self-pressure and overwhelming feeling was consuming his brain and body. And the only person he didn’t want to encounter was testing his patience.

“And if I don’t? This is a free world, Kong. Stop acting like you own everything.”

And that’s all it took for Kong to snap out of it.

“I ‘own everything’?” Kong repeated in disbelief. His body immediately turned to face Thomas, who was looking at him with a neutral face. “Sorry, but I’m not the one pissing people off just because it makes me feel superior. So tell me Thomas,—” Kong walked towards him at slow, and deliberate steps. “who really acts like he owns everything?” he said in a low voice, cold, dangerous. Kong stopped when he found himself in front of Thomas, looking at him with poisonous eyes.

“You think I piss you off just because it makes me feel superior?” Thomas scoffed, like he just heard the funniest joke on earth. “You really don’t know anything, Kong.” 

The mentioned lifted his brow. “Then tell me. What is it that I don’t know?” Kong asked as he crossed his arms. Defiant. Bold.

“You’ll know when it’s time” Thomas was about to turn around and walk out the door, but stopped in his tracks when he heard Kong.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kong said furrowing his eyebrows. He was genuinely clueless about what Thomas was talking about, and that made him furious. Because, what the hell did he think he was? That he can just say whatever the fuck he wants and leave?

“Are you really curious?” Kong could definitely notice there was a hint of amusement in his voice. 

But Kong didn’t respond. 

He stood there while Thomas approached him with slow steps. And when he was in front of him, he leaned closer to his face, narrowing his eyes, hands in his waist. 

Thomas licked his top teeth with a smirk on his face. Then, he straightened up, making a face like he was considering telling him.

“I’m not telling you” he finally said, smiling.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“You’re really annoying, you know that?”

“I’m annoying, an asshole…” Thomas stepped closer, making Kong step back. “What else?” 

Two beats passed before Kong replied with “You act like you’re better than anyone,”

A smile curved his lips. “Go on”

Another step.

“You’re pathetic.”

And another step, making Kong’s back hit the cold material, bringing his hands to the edge of the sink immediately for support.

Thomas’ gaze was now dark. Dangerous.

“Careful, Kong,” his voice like a midnight ocean, dark and boundless. “I’m very patient, but it doesn’t mean I will put up with your attitude” 

“Is that a threat?” Kong chuckled in astonishment. 

“It’s a warning. A very friendly one.”

“Friendly my ass” Kong murmured, breaking eye contact and turning his face to the side. But he slightly flinched when he felt Thomas’ arms rest at each side of the sink, caging his body between them.

“You don’t look cute when you’re cursing out. At all.” he whispered against his ear, the hot air sending a full-body shiver down his spine. “Talk to me nicely if you don’t want to see my other side.” Thomas’ lips were brushing his ear, and that alone was enough to make them turn red. He closed his eyes shut.

But a loud noise made both of them flinch. And then footsteps drew closer. 

“Phi! Let’s go, the match is about to start!” a high-pitched voice yelled directly at them. It was one of Kong’s teammates. Kong pushed Thomas away immediately, rushing to his teammate and ignoring Thomas completely. 

Ignoring his fast-beating heart and the heat coiling deep in his stomach.

“I’m coming!” he replied, faking a smile.

When they walked past the door, his teammate murmured, like they were telling a secret, “What were you two talking about there?”

And Kong just brushed it off with “Nothing. He just came to piss me off, the usual.” he shrugged.

“I really don’t get why you hate each other so much.”

But Kong didn’t reply. He didn’t want to keep spiraling about it. Didn’t want to think about the strange feeling every time he was near.

 He needed to concentrate.

They reached the team’s side and Kong sat in the benches while grabbing a bottle of water and listening to the coach’s last words before the match started.

Kong stood beside his teammates, warming up and getting ready to hunt. And from the corner of his eye he could visualize Thomas looking right at him from the other side of the court. Kong internally rolled his eyes.

Everyone took his position inside the court, Thomas and Kong being the ones to tip-off.

“May the best team win,” Thomas said in a low voice. 

“May the best team win.” Kong repeated with a smirk on his face.

The whistle echoed through the hall and the referee threw the ball in the air.

The match had started.

-

The clock read eight minutes—only two left on the board. Two points. One chance. That was all Kong needed to crush the rival team and secure their spot in the national finals.

He moved across the court with fluid precision, weaving past defenders like they were nothing. The crowd roared his name, a wave of sound meant to push him forward—but instead, it rattled his focus. At the three-point line, a defender rose in front of him, arms wide to block his shot.

One bounce. Two.

He released.

It missed.

You’ve got to be kidding me , he thought, jaw tightening, a curse slipping under his breath. The seconds bled away. No one scored. 

The referee’s whistle sliced through the noise—half a minute left. The rival team had the ball. Kong’s pulse spiked. He lunged in, hands ready, and in one swift, surgical move he stole the pass. Sprinting down the court, sweat stung his eyes, hair sticking to his face, lungs burning—but he didn’t lose control.

Then—impact.

He slammed into someone.

The man raised his hands innocently, a wicked smile curling his lips.

Thomas. 

Heat flared in Kong’s chest.

“Watch your step, bastard,” Kong growled, a glare sharp enough to cut.

Thomas just scoffed, stepping aside, eyes locked on Kong with an unreadable expression—part amusement, part challenge. Like a predator circling his prey.

Another whistle. Three seconds in the key. An infraction.

This is unbelievable. Kong hurled the ball back to the rivals.

From across the court, Thomas waited—hands on his knees, smirk still in place, tongue brushing his top teeth like he’d already won.

And then it happened. The rival team rushed forward, Thomas intercepting. with perfect timing. One clean steal, one decisive drive, one shot that hit nothing but net.

The whistle blew. 

Game over.

Thomas’ team was going to the finals.

Kong ran his fingers through his hair, irritated. They were so close, yet so far away. He walked to his team’s side and grabbed his water bottle, drinking a good amount of the transparent liquid, satiating his thirst for water, but not for winning. The coach was still giving encouraging words even though they’d already lost. But Kong was so deep in thought he didn’t listen to any of them, nor his teammates who were talking to him. And the cheerings from the rival team just felt like a mocking joke.

He felt stupid—upset at himself.

Kong annoyingly grabbed his things and walked to the locker room throwing his towel at the wood bench like it personally offended him, covering his face with his hands and sighing heavily. 

“It’s okay, Kong. It’s okay.” he reassured himself in a low voice, his body moving until he was standing in front of the large, luxury sink. Eyes locked on his reflection. His eyebrow furrowed in irritation. His hands gripped the edge of the sink tightly, slightly bent over. “Don’t let it affect you”

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

It was calmer, quiet.

Then, multiple voices were heard walking in. 

Kong snapped his eyes open.

Thomas’ team.

Kong breathed out heavily. He watched through the large mirror how the other team praised Thomas and talked about going out to celebrate.

“You were so cool out there, Phi!”

“We should go celebrate!”

“Yeah, drinks’ on me!”

“You all can go, I’m just gonna rest, I’m too tired” he heard Thomas say.

But he could only take a deep breath and look at his reflection. Trying to ignore the fact that he made not one, but plenty of mistakes out there. Kong was so deep in his thoughts he didn’t realize everyone already left. 

Leaving him alone, once again.

When he was about to leave and walked past the lockers, a voice was heard, startling him.

Thomas.

“Told you it was self-confidence. Maybe you should try it sometime.” he was leaning against the lockers with crossed arms and a grin that made his stomach twist in something unknown. —he looked effortlessly attractive and stupidly tempting.

Kong murmured something under his breath looking at the ceiling and breathing out heavily to then face Thomas. “Do you ever stop being an asshole? You should try it sometime.” 

“I’m just saying… Maybe—” a smirk showed at the corner of his mouth, “being confident would’ve made you win out there. But instead, you’re here sulking to yourself and whining over a stupid match.”

His words echoed inside his mind and as if someone had turned a switch on—the anger spread through his body like a wildfire. Closing the distance between them at fast steps, grabbing his collar and slamming his body against the lockers. A loud metallic thud echoing through the room. Their faces were dangerously close, their breaths colliding with each other, becoming one in the heavy atmosphere.

“You—” Kong growled between his teeth, “don’t have any idea of what I’m feeling or what I’m thinking. You don’t have that right, Thomas.” 

But Thomas didn’t seem to be scared or frightened. He looked pleased, entertained even.

“No one seems to have that right either. So, tell me Kong, when will you stop being an asshole?” 

A slap.

Sharp. Solid.

His face turned to the side as he felt the sting spread through his left cheek. Kong breathed heavily, his hand trembling at his collar and looking at Thomas with a clenched jaw.

A beat of silence stretched between them. And Thomas turned to him with a smirk on his face, no sign of pain in his satisfied face.

And without a warning—Kong seized him, slamming his mouth onto Thomas’ with a force that felt like punishment. 

The collision rattled through his skull, lips crushed, teeth clashing, the taste of blood blooming between them. Thomas staggered under the sudden weight of it, but he didn’t retreat. He couldn’t. Something in him—something just as vicious—rose to meet the assault, his own lips parting, pushing back with equal savagery.

Their mouths moved in a brutal rhythm, not seeking harmony but dominance. Each kiss was a blow, each breath stolen like pillage. 

Kong’s fingers tangled deep into Thomas’ hair, yanking his head at a sharp angle, forcing him to open further, to surrender ground. A strangled groan tore from Thomas’ throat, vibrating against Kong’s tongue, and his hands shot to Kong’s waist, clutching hard enough to bruise. The uniform crumpled under his grip, but Thomas didn’t care—he wanted to feel the heat of him, wanted to know he could hold this fire even if it burned him.

There was nothing gentle here. 

The kiss was control sharpened to a blade's edge. Rage wrapped in heat, slicing through reason. 

Kong kissed like he meant to consume him, as if each second apart was a debt to be collected with interest. Thomas met every advance with a defiance that bordered on masochistic, teeth catching Kong’s lower lip in a bite that drew a hiss and only deepened the contact. 

It wasn’t affection. It wasn’t love. 

It was hunger masquerading as hatred, a shared intoxication in the violence they could do to each other without breaking. 

Feral. Lawless.

Their bodies pressed closed enough that breath became a single, ragged thing, and for a moment, the lines blurred. 

When they finally broke apart, it wasn’t for a lack of will but a lack of air. Their lips were swollen, their breaths ragged, eyes locked in a silent war where neither side planned to surrender. The taste of blood lingered, metallic and hot—a reminder that they had crossed a line neither wanted to retreat from.

Kong, still breathless and panting from the make-out session, didn’t say anything for seconds that felt like hours, nor did Thomas—who was still grabbed by his collar and was breathing erratically, but then, it happened.

Kong’s eyes widened in realization, stepping backwards terrified like he saw a ghost. His chest felt heavy, and his vision blurry. However, Thomas couldn’t react in time because by the time he did, Kong had already left the room—leaving him with lips still burning from the heat of the kiss, disoriented and with his heart in his throat.

***

Two weeks passed.

14 days since that day.

336 hours in which he couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss they shared—a mistake, a foolish, reckless mistake. Kong tried— really tried to stop his mind from drifting back to that moment. But it was inevitable—the touch still lingered in his body, like he had it engraved deep in his bones. The fire, burning not only in his body, but in his heart .

Because that kiss was the moment feelings started to unravel. Feelings he thought he didn’t have— shouldn’t have, shattering everything into pieces—pieces he tried to bury deep in his mind, keep them away from him, from the realization of what it really meant.

Thomas, on the other side, was not doing better. Like, any better.

He spent those two weeks thinking about Kong. Every day, every hour, every damn second. 

Like he always did.

Because, truth was, he liked him. Like really liked him. 

Head heels over Kong.

And there was something about the way Kong puffed up his flushed cheeks when he was mad, or when he cursed under his breath when he played basketball, or the way his mouth curved into a smile when something turned out like he expected. 

Kong was very responsive, and that was what made his chest burn with something deep, violent. Because it meant that it affected him. Because anyone else could’ve brushed it off, ignored it—but Kong? He was different.

And something inside Thomas told him that there could be a possibility that what Kong felt for him wasn’t hate but something else.

Maybe he was delirious and crazy to think Kong could ever look at him with other eyes, to think his fantasies would ever be close to reality, but that kiss… It only increased his possibilities.

And he was willing to walk through fire, even if it burned him.

-

The big day had come.

The finals.

The gymnasium roared with the chanting from the crowd, body heat wrapping the court like smoke, shoes squeaking against the polished wood, players moving like shadows. Everything was so alive and loud—unlike him.

Thomas found himself sitting at the benches, watching his team practice at one side, and the rival team at the other side of the court. He was calm, self-confident, determined . Looking too untroubled by the present menace.

They started preparing on their own side, Thomas listened carefully to everything the coach was saying—nothing he didn’t already know. He knew the tactics by memory, the moves by heart, like he was born for this exact moment. 

Everyone went to their positions, and as the counter went down to zero, Thomas breathed out, already seeing himself lifting the trophy between his hands.

A whistle was heard.

It started.

Thomas moved like a shadow between his teammates with a supernatural speed, almost imperceptible. The first minutes were chaos—shouts, sneakers, the pounding of the ball like a war drum. Both teams crashed against each other, neither giving ground. Every point felt stolen, wrestled from clenched fists and gritted teeth.

Thomas weaved through the court, his movements sharp, unpredictable. A defender lunged, arms wide, but Thomas slipped past him in a blur, cutting through the paint before passing to a teammate. 

The ball soared—caught—two points. 

The crowd exploded.

The rival team answered back immediately. A long three-point shot arched high and sank cleanly into the net. The scoreboard blinked, the numbers tightening.

The game became faster, harsher. Bodies collided midair, rebounds snatched away like prey from hunters. Sweat and breath mingled, the sound of impact echoing with every fall to the floor. Thomas was everywhere. Blocking. Stealing. Driving forward with an energy that seemed unending. He shouted plays, his voice raw, and the team followed as if bound by the same heartbeat.

Minutes slipped away. The score tied.

Final possession. The court pulsed with tension, the crowd on the edge of eruption. Thomas held the ball, the clock bleeding down. Five seconds. Four.

He dashed left, defenders collapsing on him. Three. He spun, slipped between two bodies. Two. He leapt—arms outstretched, the ball leaving his fingertips.

Time froze.

The shot cut high, kissed the rim—then fell through the net.

The buzzer blared.

Silence broke into thunder. Teammates stormed the court, lifting Thomas, their shouts drowning in the roar of victory. He gasped, chest heaving, sweat stinging his eyes—but it didn’t stop his gaze from drifting to it.

A small figure standing right beside the entrance, running to the exit when his eyes met his.

Thomas smiled to himself.

Gotcha.

The presentation of the trophy and the awards for the MVP began right after. They took a group photo with the shiny trophy and their medals. After the celebration, and as time passed, the gymnasium was emptying little by little. 

Thomas was eventually alone in the locker room, while he discharged his sweat-soaked uniform in his bag, leaving his perfectly marked abs and obscene broad shoulders to the sight. His hair was damp from the shower, his muscles flexed every time his body moved and his skin slightly glistened under the warm lights—he looked extremely tempting and dangerous, like a god that only existed in books, like a myth . Too glorious to be real, meant to be worshipped.

And then…

Thump.

A low curse was heard, and Thomas turned around to where that noise came from, facing no one but him .

“Are you a stalker now?” he watched as the small person rubbed his leg from bumping into the bench, he chuckled leaning against the metal lockers, lifting his brow in amusement, ignoring at all the fact he was half-naked. 

“Fuck you” he replied with a neutral tone, but Thomas saw how Kong swallowed hard.

“There you go. I told you I don’t like bad language. Talk to me nicely.” his soft and low voice sent shivers down his spine, making his body short-circuit.

“Don’t expect me to treat you the way you like, I only came to clear up something.” Kong walked until he was in front of him, slightly lowering his tone at the last word, his cheeks burning hot at the view of him half-naked in front of him. 

Thomas grinned.

Of course he was. Thomas knew .

“Yeah? Then talk. I’m all ears” he crossed his arms, awaiting for the response he already knew. Narrowing his eyes when he noticed Kong open his mouth to let nothing but silence come out, like he wasn’t sure of what he was going to say, or if he didn’t have anything to say at all. 

Two beats passed. “So?” he lifted his brow, suddenly enjoying his submissive attitude a little too much.

“I—I came to say that what happened last time was a mistake,” he swallowed, “and that it should’ve never happened.” he finished, expecting any reaction from Thomas, who still looked at him in a way that made his leg tremble and his heart to beat loud in his ears.

One he hated it.

Truth was, Kong spent the past weeks trying to forget about him and the fact that they kissed, and worse—the fact that he initiated it. He hated himself for it, for being so reckless, so sloppy. He was always calculating, neutral, focused—and all that went down the drain because of his impulsiveness, from his inability to keep those stupid feelings away. 

One day he thought he finally buried those feelings deep in his mind, but as if the chain that kept them locked had broken, it all unraveled the evening he got a notification on his phone.

User Teetut Chungmanirat has followed you.

Teetut Chungmanirat liked your post.

All his ears were hearing was the loud thump from his heartbeat and the way his stomach closed tighter. The bastard knew the effect he had on him, and he knew how to use it in his favor.

“Why is it a mistake, if I may know?” 

“Because it was”

“For you it is.” 

Kong fell silent, his stomach twisted, “What?”

“For you it was a mistake. For me a revelation” Thomas explained, shrugging, like he was saying the most normal thing in the world, like he didn’t know the chaos he created inside Kong’s heart.

“Revelation of what?” 

“Your feelings”

And that hit harder than anything in the world. Because not only he was aware of it, Thomas was too. And every wall he built around his heart fell to the ground—years of closing himself, acting like an emotionless person, rejecting everyone who got too close to him, brushing off his feelings like it meant nothing—only to vanish it all with just a snap the second he met Thomas and his annoying personality and his stupidly attractive face.

“You’re delusional. There is nothing” there he was, pushing people away once again. 

“Really, darling ?” Kong froze at the sudden pet name, feeling his ears burn.

Thomas stepped closer. A beat passed. Another step.

He was close enough for Kong to smell his strong, intoxicating aroma, making his head dizzy. Embracing his entire body and filling every pore with his sharp scent.

“You know what else I don’t like besides bad language? Lies.” his tone was dangerously low, vibrating deep in his bones. “So stop lying and tell me the truth,” his hand raised to lift his face enough to lock their eyes. “Tell me—what you really feel”

Kong wanted to look away, but he couldn’t . Like his body didn’t respond, like he was under a spell.

Under his spell.

“I—” his breath hitched when he felt his thumb brushed just over his lower lip, tempting, waiting. His eyes closed instinctively, getting carried away by the soft, delicate touch.

“Tell me, Kong—Tell me to stop, and I swear I’ll back off. For good” Thomas muttered in a low voice, knowing Kong was too gone to back off, too ruined to keep pretending. But he couldn’t help but feel a deep aching in his chest at the thought of walking away from him completely.

A beat.

Another beat.

Kong opened his mouth slightly, “I fucking hate you,” he whispered, feeling breathless like he just ran a marathon.

And that’s all it took to unleash the fervent feelings. Thomas crashed his lips into Kong’s in a deep, intense kiss. One that felt like a petition, and Kong responded just as eager—like a confession, a declaration of everything that unraveled in the past weeks. 

Lips moved desperately, teeth clashing, hot, wet tongues colliding. Thomas gripped his waist, Kong clutched at his shoulders, his body felt light, his head fuzzy, drunk in his kiss. There was no turning back now, no more pretending. A muffled whine was swallowed by his mouth, devouring his lips like a starved animal, Thomas licked his lower lip and Kong sank his nails into the skin of his shoulders, a low groan arose from his throat, making his stomach burn with something primal, raw. The noise from outside vanished into the air, leaving only both of them and the shameless sound of their kisses.

“You can hate me all you want, darling —” Thomas whispered against his mouth, intoxicating breaths mingling with the thick air of the room, “but you can’t lie to this ” he raised his finger and tapped softly at the height of his heart. 

Their lips joined once again, wet, hot sounds escaping from their mouths. Then, Thomas slammed his body into the lockers beside them, caging him as he traced open-mouth kisses along his jaw and the curve of his neck gaining faint moans from Kong, muffled by the bite of his bottom lip. He pushed their bodies closer, his naked torso pressing his chest above the fabric, heat spreading through his entire body.

“You sound so pretty, let me hear you” he muttered against the skin of his neck, wet and red by his kisses.

“Ah—” and right after Thomas said the last word, his mouth fell open in an O form, letting gasps and moans fall like sin, obscene and lewd. His hips thrusted forward instinctively when he felt Thomas softly nibble his ear lobe, grinding just right over the suffocating clothes.

“Gosh—you’re driving me insane” Thomas whispered, tracing wet kisses back to his lips, consuming his mouth like ambrosia, thick and heavy with hunger. “So pretty, so perfect, baby” he muttered between kisses, vowing the words like a prayer, cupping his face with both hands, afraid he’d disappear if he didn’t hold on enough.

Thomas pulled away just enough to look at the person in front of him—Kong was ruined . 

Glistening and bruised lips from how much they’ve kissed, faint red marks on his neck contrasting with the pale color of his skin, dazed-brown eyes with tears pooling at the corners, chest panting heavy, clothes wrinkled.

Absolutely obscene, beautifully wrecked.

Thomas smiled proudly. My work of art. “Do you still want this?” he asked in a low voice, furrowing his brows, almost scared for the answer. Thomas cupped his face with a tenderness that made his chest ache with something warm—it was soft, delicate, almost reverent. He kissed him again, this time short, just a peck, like he was asking. “Tell me, baby —do you want this?” he brushed their noses together, Kong closed his eyes softly at the touch, his limbs felt like gelatin, his heart pounding intensely inside his chest, body burning inside out.

But Thomas didn’t push further. He waited .

Every second felt like punishment, uncertainty began to cloud his mind, fear and anxiety settling in his chest—until Kong nodded.

Thomas smiled and kissed him again, this time slowly, like he wanted to take his time devouring his mouth, consuming him all. His tongue asked for permission, and soon their tongues collided, hot and wet. Kong wrapped his hands around his neck and Thomas’ hands then found their way to his lower back, grabbing the soft skin over his jeans, gripping his ass hard until Kong moaned against his mouth.

Kong grabbed his arm, grounding him there, “N—not here,” he panted between kisses, “home—let’s go to my house” Kong proposed, glancing at Thomas with dazed eyes.

Thomas stilled. 

He didn’t think Kong would actually invite him to his house, and that made his heart race like crazy, because it was going to happen, sure it was—they’ve been making out for a long time now, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was fucking terrified .

Still, his lips curved into a smile, “Let’s go to my car then” he said as he pulled away completely, reaching for his clothes and bag, intertwining their fingers and walking out the locker room to the parking lot when Thomas was already dressed. And for their luck, there was no one left at the gymnasium.

How long had it been? 

They walked in silence, only their racing hearts and shoes echoing through the emptied hallways. 

They reached the parking lot and Thomas stopped in front of a crystal black pearl Honda HV-R—it was absurdly big and screamed luxuriousness.

“Is this your car?” Kong didn’t even try to hide his astonishment, although his voice came out almost like a whisper.

Thomas grinned. “Yeah, you like it?”he turned to face him, never letting go of his hand, and Kong didn’t seem to care either.

Kong nodded. “It’s nice.” he smiled shyly. 

Thomas opened the front door for him, letting go of his hand only when Kong sat on the soft, leather cushion. Thomas sat in the driver seat and right after turning on the engine, he asked, “Will you tell me where you live, or do I have to guess?” he teased, like he didn’t just devour his mouth in the locker room seconds ago.

“Just drive, I’ll tell you along the way” he replied in a low voice, cheeks pink, facing the window and focusing on anything but his racing heart.

Thomas just chuckled softly and started driving around the long streets of Bangkok. The orange sun hid shyly between the buildings on the horizon, casting warm streaks of light above the city. The sky was a painted canvas, bright colors contrasting with the clouds, creating an endearing sight—the city lights began to lighten as the sun settled, everything becoming bright, dazzling, alive.

Kong gave Thomas directions to his condo, feeling his chest pound faster as they drove closer. And the realization hit harder than expected—it was happening, like really happening. Kong would’ve never imagined he’d be sitting in the passenger seat of his so-called enemy,  on the way to his own home. 

When did this happen? How did Thomas manage to break the walls around his heart just like that? 

Everything hit too fast at once, but it was too late to back off now—he couldn’t keep lying to himself, and even if he wanted, it would’ve only made it worse, because Thomas was not oblivious. He knew, he always knew. And Kong couldn’t help but feel something warm sparkle in his chest.

They arrived at Kong’s condo after 15 minutes driving, the sun had already gone down—in its place, a full beautiful moon bathed the night along twinkling stars spread across the sky. 

Thomas got out first, rounding the car to open Kong’s door. Thomas offered his hand and Kong looked at it for a few seconds, breathing out and finally stepping out of the luxurious car.

Thomas followed him from behind like a shadow, neither of them spoke at first, Kong too deep in his thoughts, and Thomas—praying that he doesn’t faint before even reaching his room.

A ten-story building located near downtown, a nice and warm reception, every apartment big enough for two people. They took the elevator, luckily for them, it was empty—which made Kong’s heart pound faster. Thomas was last to step inside, and as soon as the doors closed, he pinned Kong against the metal wall, gaining a gasp from him.

“W—what are you doing?” Kong muttered, clearly panicking. They were alone in such a small space, and their closeness only made the air heavier, making the temperature rise abruptly. 

Thomas tilted his head to the side. “You were too far.” he grinned. Just as simple as that. 

That made Kong’s ears burn. “You’re impossible”

“Yet, you’re taking me to your room”

Kong blushed. “I hate you”

“Keep telling me that and it will only make me want to ruin you more” Thomas whispered against his ear, skin prickling as he felt the hot air hitting him.

And just when Thomas was about to kiss him, the doors opened, breathing out heavily in surrender.

They barely made it to his room. The moment Kong pushed the door open, he pinned Thomas against the wall, slamming it shut behind them without care. His lips crashed against Thomas’ with desperate urgency—teeth clashing, breath mingling, tongues tangling in a fevered storm. The fire between them ignited instantly, spreading like an uncontrollable blaze that consumed every nerve, every inch of their bodies. Kong clutched at Thomas’ shirt as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart, grounding himself in that touch. Thomas, just as frantic, cupped Kong’s face, pulling him closer, answering with the same raw hunger—devouring him like he had been starved for a lifetime, as if only  Kong could quench the ache burning inside him. And yet, even in that frenzy, it was clear—no matter how deep, how consuming—their hunger would never truly be satisfied.

In between stumbles they reached the room, pushing Thomas down to the mattress as Kong straddled him without breaking the kiss. Their hips rocked and Thomas groaned low in his throat, hands roaming down his back, gripping hard the soft skin over the jeans, Kong gasped against his mouth.

Thomas pulled away to trace wet kisses down his jaw to his neck, Kong’s hands were resting at each side of Thomas’ head, back arched as he felt his tongue swirling around his adam’s apple, heat pooling in his stomach and the room temperature raising as the minutes passed, making him breath erratically and pant heavily. 

“You’re too dressed…” he breathed, eyes closed as the unbearable heat took power over his small body, hissing between his teeth when Thomas nibbled softly at the skin of his neck, his fingers clutched the bedsheets tighter. 

“Take my clothes off” Thomas mumbled against his wet skin, massaging his bottom fiercely, making their hips rock together involuntarily, a shiver ran down his spine, fire settling in his low abdomen that made him thrust instinctively, making them both moan.

Kong snapped his eyes open, eyes blown in lust, desire. His movements were impatient, yet slow, deliberate. Like time itself had slowed down just for them. Thomas’ shirt was on the floor in seconds, followed by his shorts, Kong undressed himself as well, the clothes were scattered all over, soon they were only in briefs, burning and panting.

Kong straightened up, running his hands all the way up to his chest, eyes locked to his naked body like it whispered enchantments into his ear. Pumped biceps, veins that covered his arms, broad shoulders that were almost obscene, his hair slightly tousled and pupils blown wide, lips plumped and glistening—he looked like a fucking sin . And Kong had to bite his lower lip hard at the sole thought of having that view all to himself—it was too much.

Thomas’ hands traced a desperate path down his back, over his waist, finally settling on his hips—holding him firm, grounding him with a grip that spoke of need more than strength. His fingers dug into the sensitive skin, leaving behind faint, fleeting marks that burned like whispers of possession. His eyes followed, roaming every inch of Kong’s flushed body with devotion that was both reverent and consuming, as if each glance was carving him into memory. It was deliberate, unrelenting—like he wished to brand every detail onto his soul, to carry it forever in the chambers of his heart.

“You’re so pretty,” Thomas vowed in a low voice, words whispered like a secret. Intimate. Personal . Like Kong wasn’t supposed to hear his deepest thoughts—although he deserved to be told how pretty he was.

Kong’s cheeks flushed pink, a smile curving his lips, lowering himself to crush his mouth into Thomas’. Their lips moved desperately, eagerly. Kong flicked his tongue and bit his lower lip, gaining a faint moan from Thomas. That only sound made his hips thrust back and forth, grinding over the thin fabric of their briefs. The heat pooled in his abdomen overwhelmingly, the suffocating heat made him pant mercilessly over Thomas’ lips, increasing the speed of his thrusts when it hit just right. 

Thomas’ heart was racing like it just ran a marathon, his body felt light, yet heavy by the devastating sensations hitting all at once. He had never experienced this kind of sex before, not with women or men. He knew how sex worked though, he wasn’t stupid—but from theory to practice it was something entirely new.

He never thought it could feel that good—and because of that, he didn’t realize the tightness in his lower abdomen, suddenly feeling his hardness aching desperately for release, his hands gripping Kong’s hips, grounding him firmly to stop. Kong glanced at him with dazed eyes, pupils blown wide, chest flushed. 

“Tell me,—” his breath came out unevenly, trying desperately to change the game—it’d be too embarrassing for him to come just from a dry-humping session. He swallowed his nervousness, trying to stop his racing heart “tell me what to do.” 

And then it hit him—Kong remembered the conversation at the locker room, the one at the gymnasium— Thomas was a virgin.

“I—Uhm…” Thomas looked at him expectantly, waiting for any order or command to obey. “Just… Use your hands, and fingers—I’ll tell you if it feels good” he responded under his breath, biting his lip, heat rushing to his face and ears. 

Thomas nodded, understanding immediately. And after Kong told him to lay by the headboard, he crawled to his lap again, before getting rid of his briefs, as well as Thomas’.

He leaned to the bedside table to take out a bottle of lube. And Thomas couldn’t help but wonder if he had used it with someone else—not that he cared, because he was free to do whatever he wanted and they weren’t together, but still, it made him overthink and somehow, make his chest ache with something uncomfortable. Because deep down, he was greedy , and the mere thought of someone else touching and looking at Kong the way he did made his blood boil with jealousy.

And Kong noticed—the way his jaw clenched and his fingers gripped his thighs tighter. 

“I—I haven’t used it with anyone else but myself,” he admitted without a second thought, watching how Thomas’ gaze turned dark, wicked, like he was pleased with the answer, that made him regret the words almost immediately, but it was already too late, “Sorry, I don’t know why I said that” he shook his head, chuckling under his breath.

“Don’t be. I don’t care about it either” he reassured him. Liar . “Come here” he smiled softly, pulling him by the back of his neck to kiss him deeply. Kong melted into the kiss, making his limbs weak and his ears vibrate with excitement, his head felt feverish. The heat became unbearable due to their closeness and nakedness. 

Thomas reached between his thighs and wrapped his hand around him, slow and deliberate, putting enough pressure to make his head spin and fall over on his shoulder, muffled sounds coming out in lewd, obscene moans. Thomas fastened his pace, switching between fast and slow, making Kong lose control and moan shamelessly, feeling lost at the overwhelming sensations, consuming his body like wildfire. 

“Ah—Mm” he thrusted his hips in rhythm with his hand as he searched for more contact, aching for release. “F—fingers, please” he cried between gasps, chest heaving, vision blurry.

Thomas pulled his hand away, gaining a whine from Kong, he grabbed the lube beside him and poured a generous amount onto his fingers, guiding them between his cheeks, in his most intimate part, taunting around the area with a delicacy that felt like torture, making his head dizzy, drunk in lust.

“Oh, God—please” Kong cried out, desperate for something to relieve the agonizing fire inside him.

Thomas grinned. “You’re so gorgeous when you beg” and he kissed him hard, thrusting one finger inside in one swift motion, making Kong cry out loud with a choked moan, swallowed by his mouth. A full-body shiver ran down his spine, prickling his skin. Maybe he was too sunken in desire to even care about the slight stinging pain, and because his fingers were coated, the uncomfortable ache was soon replaced by heat that built up in his abdomen rapidly.

Another finger pressed in, his breath hitched. He was already leaking and aching. Thomas moved his fingers relentlessly as his free hand wrapped around himself, stroking torturously slow, biting his lip and focusing on not finishing too soon. The scene was obscene and lewd, moans and groans mingling with the thick atmosphere, suddenly the room felt too small, suffocating.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this overwhelmed with someone else—not even his own hands made him feel this good. It was almost like he was discovering everything all over again, the stimulations being twice as strong. And Thomas touched him like he meant it,  like he just discovered the rarest gemstone—caressing every part of him with a tenderness that made his chest pound with something warm and his body ignite in flames, chasing more of his touch with impatience.

A third finger went in smoothly thanks to the slick from his fingers, moving in and out and curving just slightly to hit his sensitive spot, making Kong arch his back and his head to fall backwards, hands resting on Thomas’ chest. His hips started moving unconsciously to the rhythm of his fingers, seeking more contact, more of him —it wasn’t enough.

Thomas groaned low in his throat, the sight of Kong riding his fingers and moaning mercilessly above him, mouth slightly parted, head falling backwards and eyes fluttered shut made his arousal throb painfully between his hand, heat spreading through his face and chest because of Kong being beautifully wrecked and ruined by him .

“Fuck—you’re… You look so pretty like this” he muttered under his breath with half-lidded eyes, biting his lip as his hand stroked himself. Kong moaned in response, feeling his heat build up rapidly in his abdomen as he moved his hips faster. Thomas was not doing much better, his body felt like a tickling bomb wanting to explode at any moment—so he withdrew his fingers, making Kong cry in frustration at the sudden loss of warmth. “I want you to ride me, baby” 

Kong opened his eyes, vision blurry by his lust, thighs trembling as he glanced down at Thomas, furrowing his brows in confusion—because he hasn't touched him yet. And it wasn’t fair that only him was the one feeling good. So he bit his lip as a flashing thought crossed his mind. “I want to suck you off” he panted, breathless, voice raspy from moaning, chest heaving. 

Thomas froze at the spot. His mouth parted slightly to say something, but nothing came out. It took him by surprise, he didn’t actually think Kong would ask him to do that—not that it mattered that much, because he already felt good just by making him feel good, and that was enough. But Kong sucking him off? Watching him fall apart above him was devastating enough and he didn’t know if he was going to be able to endure it much longer.

But he just nodded, whispering, “Okay” 

Kong bit his lip and as his mouth curved into a smile, he lowered himself, not breaking eye contact—he wanted to watch Thomas fall apart. He took him in his hand and flicked his tongue around the tip, like he was licking a popsicle. Thomas rolled his eyes as one of his hands tugged on Kong’s hair, not pushing but grounding him there. And when Kong wrapped his mouth around him to take him fully, Thomas moaned, gripping the sheets tighter with his free hand, the other one tugging at his hair—and he tried with all his might not to thrust deeper into his mouth.

The new sensations felt overwhelmingly suffocating, as if everything had cracked open and hit him all at once. Like unlocking a new part of himself, one where only Kong had the key. 

Then, he started moving his head up and down in slow and deliberate moves, gripping the base firm at the rhythm of his mouth. Thomas closed his eyes shut, head falling backwards to the soft pillows, mouth parted and letting nothing but embarrassingly obscene sounds come out, a moan made the back of his throat vibrate, making Thomas roll his eyes and curse under his breath.

Heat pooled in his stomach, making him lose control. His warm mouth and wet tongue flicked just right to make him fall apart, moaning shamelessly in seconds. He wasn’t going to last, and if Kong kept working on him like that, he was going to come embarrassingly fast.

“Kong—fuck… Baby—stop, please, ” Thomas panted, glancing down at Kong, who was already looking at him, heat rushing up to his face, his heat throbbed inside his mouth. “if you keep doing this I’ll finish embarrassingly fast, and I still want you to ride me” he caressed his cheek softly, brushing strands of hair off his forehead. 

Kong pulled away with a pop, licking his lips, then he muttered  “Okay, but… I don’t have condoms… I—I didn’t know—” 

“It’s okay. I’m clean, but we can keep doing this if you want” his reassuring voice and softness made his heart explode with something warm, sincere.

There was a beat of silence—it wasn’t uncomfortable, it was something tender, familiar.

He swallowed hard, before replying “I’m clean too” and a smile curved at Thomas’ lips, pulling him into a kiss, tongues sliding, flavors mingling in their mouths. Kong poured some of the lube onto his hand and wrapped it around him, stroking slowly and deliberately, the slick making it easier to slide between his fingers. Thomas rolled his eyes and bit his lip, almost finishing on the spot when he saw Kong line up and sink down until their bodies were pressed together.

“Oh God—Fuck, Kong…” his hands searched for his hips, sinking his fingers deep into the flesh, making Kong gasp. 

His head fell forward, strands of hair covering his eyes. He felt full—too full. Overwhelming pleasure gave him goosebumps all over. His hands gripped Thomas’ chest tighter, thighs trembling—skin flushed and already leaking. A rush of thrill and bliss ran down his body, feeling tears prickling at the corner of his eyes, threatening to come out. The overflowing sensations clouded his head—he felt too good. Satiated. Complete.

Like his body just found its missing piece.

Then, he started moving, slow at first. Pulling out just enough to sink down in one, devastating move. Making Thomas moan out loud, his heart racing fast inside his chest. Cheeks flushed, hands gripping his hips like he didn’t want to let go. 

“Too full…” he breathed out, grinding back and forth. The position made Kong feel him feel even deeper inside him, hitting spots he didn’t know existed, spots he didn’t know he had.

Soon, Kong quickened his pace, each movement driving him harder, until he was riding him with reckless abandon. Their skin collided in a sharp, unrelenting rhythm, moans tangled in the thick air like a melody only they could compose—a sinful ballad echoing in the darkness. The room was bathed in faint moonlight and the distant glow of city lights, shadows and warmth striking across their bodies as if painting them in fire. In that secret rhythm, every gasp, every thrust, every sound became a vow—a confession meant for one else but them .

“Just like that—oh, God—so good, baby” his hands ran through his body, caressing his chest firmly, squeezing just enough to make him moan above him. His praises only encouraged him to keep going, riding him with reckless, and merciless thrusts.

One of Kong’s hands traveled to his neck, not choking but holding firm enough to drive Thomas crazy—the arousing, submissive sight of Thomas moaning brokenly underneath him ignited a flame inside his stomach, smiling proudly to himself when he thrusted at a certain angle that made him choke on his own breath. It was controlled. Dominant.

The soreness from his thighs were nothing compared to the overflowing stimulations, riding him unrelentingly, trying to reach his high, heat rushing to his cheeks as he felt Thomas tense under him. 

“You like this, don’t you?” his eyes met Thomas’, wrecked by his thrusts, lips bruised by how much he bit them, pupils dark with desire—and something soft . “Me choking you—” Thrust. “while I ride you until you fall apart” Thrust.

“Yes—fuck, Kong, I’m—” he whimpered, mouth parted slightly to let lewd sounds come out, skin slapping skin, sweat glistening his body—it was raw, indecent. “I’m close, please —” his hand wrapped around Kong’s, grounding him there, not choking but not wanting to let go either.

And like a switch being turned on, Kong didn’t stop, but didn’t slow down either. Instead, he moved harder, faster. Sinking himself deeper with each thrust, heat pooled in his stomach, tensing in a way that warned he was close too. His hand wrapped around himself and started stroking, seeking relief desperately. 

“Oh God—oh, fuck,” he panted, feeling his abdomen tense, fluttering his eyes shut as he felt his orgasm strike him with a force of a thunderstorm, sweat dripping down his forehead. He came all over Thomas’ chest and stomach, breathing unevenly as his whole body jerked, spasming through his climax, his walls clenching around Thomas, who followed seconds after. Pulling out and coming all over his stomach, his release mingling with Kong’s. Their ragged breaths and gasps echoed through the walls, trying to recover from their intense climax. 

Kong’s hands were now resting on his own thighs, blinking slowly as he recovered himself. But the ache from his sore thighs soon appeared, making him whine under his breath. “So tired…” his head fell forward, voice raspy and low. 

Thomas’ breath even out, coming down from his high. He glanced over at Kong who still looked wrecked, beautifully so.

He chuckled softly. “Let me clean up, baby” his hand found the tissues from the bedside table and cleaned himself up, as well as Kong, whincing from overstimulation. 

And when Thomas finished, Kong lay on top of him, resting his head on his chest, tangling their legs, eyes heavy, his finger tracing soft, abstract figures on his stomach, oblivious of their nakedness. 

Silence stretched between them. Warm. Soft.

Then, “You’re the reason” 

Only those three words whispered like a secret under the moonlight, in the darkness of the room. 

Kong froze, turning to Thomas, confused and with a racing heart. “What do you mean?”

Thomas smiled faintly, caressing his hair softly. “ You’re the reason I started playing basketball. Because it was the only chance I had to prove myself I was good enough for you. ” he confessed.

His breath hitched, and his heart hammered hard inside his ribcage. “What are you saying?” his voice came out as a whisper.

“I’ve been watching you play for over a year—and when I least expected, I was already ruined by you, by your beauty, the way you moved like you owned the court. Your confidence and determination made me want to join the basketball team, practicing everyday to prove myself to you —that I’m enough” he lifted his chin slightly, caressing his cheek with his thumb. 

Kong’s mouth fell open, but nothing came out. He looked at him with exasperation, overwhelming feelings crowding his chest.

But Thomas didn’t push. Like he didn’t care if he heard the words he feared the most, he’d buried it all, the rejection, the pain—even if it killed him.

Because he got to kiss him, look at him like he was the most precious thing—and that was enough. He could die happy.

But Kong’s response took him by surprise. 

Not because he answered with words, but with a kiss . It wasn’t long—just a fleeting touch, a tremor of their lips meeting—but within that fragile instant, everything broke open. All he carried in his chest spilled out, raw and desperate, as if he pressed his entire soul into that single breath. It was his confession , his surrender, his unraveling—like offering his heart, trembling and bare, into waiting hands, finally yielding to the crushing longing he had buried in silence all this time.

And Thomas looked at him like he hung the moon—devotion and warmth spreading through his body, relief leaving his chest like setting down a burden he didn’t realize he had carried so long.

“If you ever make me cry I will cut off your dick” Kong threatened with a low voice, making Thomas lift his brow. 

“Oh, trust me, love—I’d rather die than making you miserable”

“I’m serious” Kong complained, pouting his lip in a way that made his heart swell.

“Me too. I’ve been waiting all this time for you. It’d be stupid to waste it just like that. So, let me be good for you , Kong.” he brushed their noses together, breaths mingling with the thick air, warm bodies pressed together in the darkness of the night.

And Kong nodded, closing his eyes and letting himself feel . “Okay” and just as he finished saying that, Thomas joined their lips in a slow, tender kiss. 

He chose to surrender wholly to him—bare, trembling, defenseless—to the very rival he once fought against. The walls he had built with such desperation crumbled at last, leaving his fragile heart exposed, not because it was safe, but because it longed to be touched. And Thomas, relentless and uninvited, stepped inside that vulnerability as if he belonged there, igniting every nerve with a fire that felt both terrifying and inevitable. In that spark, in that unguarded breath, it was as though he was falling all over again—helpless, consumed, and aching for more.

And maybe—Kong didn’t hate it after all.