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Baabin promised himself he wouldn't text Bua until 9 am. He made the promise at 4, when he woke up after three hours of sleep and lay awake with all of yesterday's feelings hammering through his body too hard to get back to sleep. So much happened, it feels unreal. What if Bua sleeps on it and realizes he's still too mad at Baabin and they can't be together after all?
He dozes off a couple more times, but he's awake again at 8:30 and at 8:55 he can't hold out any longer. He types Good morning. He erases that and types What's up. He erases that and types Hi. Adds a waterlily emoji. Squeezes his eyes shut and sends it.
A minute later his phone buzzes with a video call. He picks it up, and Bua is smiling at him, and everything in the world is okay.
Hi. | Hi. | What are you doing? | Being lazy, what about you? Bua is actually up and out of bed, he says it was noisy in his house so he went out to get breakfast. I didn't expect you to be up yet. | I couldn't sleep. Baabin is grinning, he can feel it on his face, and Bua grins back and leans against a wall. Baabin can't stop staring at him, it feels crazy to be allowed to look and feel whatever he feels. He rolls on his stomach, rolling the phone with him.
Bua's eyebrows come together. "Where are you?"
"In my room. In my bed." Baabin bites the inside of his cheek. The word bed feels loaded suddenly. But Bua doesn't pay attention to that, he squints like he's trying to see around Baabin.
"Did you take your posters down?"
Oh. Shit. He'd kind of forgotten about that. He rolls onto his back again but it's not like Bua didn't already see. And he isn't trying to lie. "Yeah, a few days ago I did."
"All of them?"
Baabin nods, embarrassed.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Bua is quiet, just looking at him like he knows there's more to say.
"It was when I was trying not to like you." Baabin hopes he doesn't have to explain how those things connect, because he isn't sure he can.
Bua frowns a little, but it's more a thoughtful frown than a confused one. "What are you going to do now?"
"With my room? Put them back up, I guess." It's felt shitty having his walls bare, and he feels guilty toward Lisa. It had been good for wallowing — hadn't he deserved to feel shitty and guilty? — but now everything's okay.
"Are you going to get anything new?"
"I don't know. I wasn't planning to." He thinks about it for a second. "Maybe I should. To make up for taking them down. Want to come shopping?"
Bua's face lights up, and Baabin's heart does a little flip.
They meet at Siam Square and walk around. It feels familiar, easy. They've been to all these shops together before. As they walk, Baabin lets his steps drift toward Bua, listing into him until their arms brush. Bua catches his hand and he blushes. Holds on tight.
He buys two posters, one that he's had his eye on for a while and one that Bua likes best. He's going to have Bua's favorite poster of Lisa on his wall. He doesn't have to feel guilty about any of it. He's so happy he doesn't know what to do with himself.
"Do you want to come help me put them up?" Bua squeezes his hand and nods.
He's going to put everything back up differently, a new arrangement even if it's the same posters and photocards and things he's had for years. "This one where I can see it from bed," he says, pointing to Bua's favorite.
"What, like here?" Bua holds it up on the wall over his pillow. Baabin flops down on the bed to get the perspective. Then he isn't looking at the poster anymore, he's looking at Bua's arms braced on the wall, leading back to the hollow of his armpit. There's a little peplum flounce to his shirt and as he leans forward gravity pulls it away from his body, making a narrow secret cave where Baabin can just see a trace of his stomach.
"Higher or lower?" Bua asks. Baabin is too mesmerized to answer. Bua says, "Hm?" and looks down, catching him. Baabin flushes. He's pretty sure his thoughts are written on his face. They hadn't kissed last night. He doesn't know if he has to earn that back.
"Lower?" he says, trying to sound normal.
Bua slides the poster down and now the hem of his shirt is brushing Baabin's hand and he closes his fingers around it without thinking. Bua watches his face, quiet, attentive. Baabin swallows. "Lower," he whispers, rubbing the hem between his fingers.
Bua lets the poster drift softly to the floor and puts his hands on either side of Baabin's head. "Like this?"
Baabin's hand slips under the shirt, lightly daring to touch the warm skin above Bua's waistband. "Yeah."
Bua folds down, elbows coming onto the mattress, face tucking against Baabin's neck. Baabin holds his waist more firmly, gripping with both hands, squeezing. Can Bua hear his heartbeat? It feels so loud.
Bua nuzzles into his neck and stretches out against him, hips leaning against Baabin's, toes teasing his feet. Baabin tries to catch Bua's foot between his two and it's a quiet, breathy wrestle of ankles and toes, Bua's feet bare against his, sliding and pushing. Their legs tangle. Bua's thigh comes between his and Baabin's hips jerk. He's head to toe prickling heat. He turns his face into the top of Bua's head, hoping, hoping.
Bua lifts his face slowly, brushes his cheek against Baabin's jaw, traces his lips along it. Baabin's head is fuzzy with how badly he wants the kiss, but he can't make himself move for it, waits with his brain fizzing until finally, finally, Bua's lips touch his. They kiss in soft, giddy snatches, Bua pulling back to smile, dazzling, and then kiss him again. Baabin can't believe how lucky he is. He can't believe he almost let this go.
He feels the roll of Bua's hips against his, syrupy and hot. He dares to slide his hand down over Bua's rear, gripping the curve and pressing it closer. Bua grins against his lips and grinds again, deliberately. Baabin can feel his dick, hot through their clothes. He squeezes Bua's ass again, turning into his body, finding space where they can lock together.
Bua's arms come around him, pulling him in, and then they're rocking together, kisses deep and messy, legs straining to tangle closer. It's good, it's so good, Bua's hot and wiry in his arms, he smells so sweet, and he wants Baabin as badly as Baabin wants him…
By the time he knows it's happening it's too late to stop it. He feels the pulse, the surge, and then he's coming in his pants, gasping into Bua's mouth, hips shuddering against hips. He freezes, mortified, as Bua pulls back and looks at him.
"Did you just…?"
Baabin covers his face. "No?" he tries, and then, "Did I what?"
Bua pulls his hand away, peers into his face. He's flushed and still smiling, at least. Baabin looks up at him, feeling pathetic. Bua snorts and collapses against him, giggling.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Baabin declares, knowing Bua knows, feeling better about pretending openly.
"Oh?" Bua's hand creeps down, flicks open his pants, finds where Baabin is sticky-wet and starting to go soft.
Baabin groans and hides his head in Bua's shoulder. "I didn't mean to." His breath catches as Bua touches his dick. Bua doesn't stop at confirming what's happened; he keeps touching, exploring. It feels good, even if it would have felt better a minute ago. Baabin tries to stay hard by sheer force of will, but he can feel himself shrinking under Bua's hand.
Bua gets up on one elbow, looks down at him. "You should take your pants off." There's something a little pressed in his voice, a little urgent, and when Baabin peeks up at him there's a keen light in his blue eyes.
"Okay," he says. Seeing that Bua's still into this makes the embarrassment just about bearable. He lifts his hips so Bua can slide his pants down. He wriggles down into the mattress like he can burrow in and feel less exposed, but there's no getting away from the heat of Bua's fingers on his softening dick. They wrap around it lightly, sliding against the mess he's made. Baabin can't breathe. Bua's looking down at it, smiling softly, teeth caught on his bottom lip. Baabin isn't used to being looked at like this, any part of him and especially not there. He wants to melt into the mattress or maybe just be hoovered up into Bua's gaze and live there forever.
"That's so hot," Bua whispers. Baabin's face flames. He needs to kiss Bua now. He makes a pathetic little grab at Bua's neck. There's something big and heavy in his chest, a pressure that doesn't ease until Bua gives Baabin his mouth. Baabin presses up into him, clinging, while Bua's hand keeps playing with his dick.
Bua's other hand wanders, riding up under Baabin's shirt, and he lifts his shoulders so Bua can take that off too. Now he's completely naked and Bua's completely clothed and the raw, bare feeling is making his head fuzzy. He wants Bua undressed too, wants to feel his skin, but he can't make himself ask for it. Bua slides down, down with his elbows by Baabin's hips, touches his tongue to Baabin's dick. He wraps his whole mouth around it, easy now that it's small and soft, and Baabin feels like he's going to cry. He holds on as long as he can, Bua's mouth enfolding him like a warm sea, but it's too much.
"Bua." He tugs at the soft auburn hair. Bua lets him go, kisses the inside of his thigh.
"What?"
"You're still dressed." He doesn't know how to say the rest of it: what he needs, the way his chest feels so heavy but also like he's about to crumple and float away like charred paper. Bua sits up, on his knees between Baabin's legs, looking down at him. "Please," Baabin says.
Bua starts to lift his shirt, then pauses. "I'm shy," he says quietly, like it's a confession.
The hesitance makes Baabin feel more solid. It's not just him, feeling like this. He slides his hands up to Bua's waist again. "I'm literally naked."
"Shut your eyes."
As if Baabin isn't going to love the sight of him. But he obeys, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling the ruffle of Bua's hem lift away from the backs of his hands. He caresses Bua's sides, trying with his hands to promise that this is safe, that Baabin wants to see him and touch him so badly. He holds on while Bua deals with his pants, the mattress dipping here and then there as he shifts his weight.
"Can I open them yet?"
"No," says Bua. His body comes down over Baabin's, skin on skin, belly touching where Baabin's is wet. A touch on his lips and who needs to see, anyway? Baabin kisses him, sweet and sloppy, loving the heat and pressure of Bua on top of him. He feels out what he wasn't allowed to look at, groping Bua's back, his sides, down over his ass and hips. Bua's kisses get quicker and shallower, frantic little nips at Baabin's lips while his body pushes against him. He pushes up just enough to get a hand between them and starts stroking himself.
Baabin wants to do it for him, aches to know what it feels like, someone else's dick in his hand, but he isn't confident of the angle and Bua seems close, and urgent. Instead he strokes Bua everywhere he can reach, neck and chest and hipbone, finding the nipples standing out tiny and sharp, feeling the sudden dip below his ribs. Bua stops kissing him and just hovers, lips brushing his as he thrusts into his hand and then shudders with a sharp exhale. Warm splashes strike Baabin's belly. Now he's covered in both their come. He takes Bua's face in his hands, flooded with feeling, looks up into the wide glazed beautiful eyes.
"Hi," he whispers.
Bua mouths Hi back, soundless, his whole face pink. His body collapses slowly onto Baabin's, hot and wet, sliding and smearing the mess between their bellies. Baabin wraps both arms around him and pulls him in, wraps his legs up around Bua's too, wanting all the connection he can get.
Muffled in his neck, Bua giggles. "I'm trapped."
"Mhm," says Baabin. "You're mine now." As soon as the words escape his mouth he holds his breath. Even though Bua's already agreed, even though he got naked in bed with him on purpose, it's too new and he doesn't know what's okay to say. But Bua sighs contentedly and nuzzles in deeper.
Mine now, Baabin echoes in his own head, and squeezes with both arms and both legs. His dick is starting to perk up again. Maybe the posters can wait.