Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fang knows better than to expect Phum to stay away from him. His younger brother had always been slightly clingy, up until the time he got sent away to live abroad. Even just the thought of that day has Fang’s blood boiling again. He remembers the way Phum had cried, thick and ugly tears rolling down his chubby cheeks. He remembers the way Phum had screamed and pleaded and begged to stay. He remembers the way his dad closed the door of the car anyway.

But above all, he remembers his feelings that day. He remembers physically feeling the bond between him and his younger brother, the most important person in his life, rip in his chest. He’d always held it close to his heart, someplace no one else could reach, and that day it was ripped out of him with every metre of increasing distance between him and Phum, his heart clattering on the pavement of their family home.

For the longest time, it had felt like his heart would stay there. Alone, dried out and in pieces on the street for others to continue driving their expensive cars over. As the years passed, though, Fang continued to find himself picking up bits and pieces of it on his way out until eventually, when he finally moved away for good, he decided that his heart didn’t look good on his parent’s pavement.

It was with him now, scattered throughout his apartment. Still in pieces, because he had never really bothered to try and glue it all together, but in his hands. On his decorations. On his clothes. On his floor, too, because there wasn’t anywhere else to place it. And parts of it had spread back to Phum. 

When Fang heard his brother would be returning, a small, silly part of him had hoped they would be able to rekindle. He had wanted to return to before, with his heart in Phum’s tiny hands and Phum’s head on Fang’s shoulder as he read them both a bedtime story.

The Phum who returned had been impossibly different from the Phum who had left, though. Fang no longer found himself comfortable around him, instead drawing out awkward silences or superficial topics of conversation. It took them a while to get used to each other again and even then, they weren’t the same. They were never going to be the same.

Yet, Fang had to remind himself, the Phum of today, the Phum before him now, had changed from the Phum who had returned. He was no longer silent or stoic. He had chosen to open himself up again, he seemed to laugh more often and louder. He seemed happy, Fang noted. Content. And he held the most important pieces of Fang’s heart, even if he didn’t know it.

“What are you thinking about?” Phum asked, a soft, knowing smile on his face. It reminded Fang of how grown his little brother was now, how mature he had become.

“You.” Fang answered honestly because he couldn’t argue with Phum anymore these days. “How you’re not really supposed to be here. Weren’t you going to have dinner with Peem tonight?”

Phum chuckled. “Yes, I was, initially, but Peem got upset when he learned he would be keeping me away from you on your birthday, so here I am! Happy birthday!”

Phum, ever the impolite one, pushed the door to Fang’s apartment open further to let himself in. He dropped the bags of takeout on Fang’s dining table, then threw himself on Fang’s sofa. Fang let out an exaggerated sigh, then another one because the first one had disappeared in the sound of the door closing and he needed to let Phum know how discontent he was.

Phum was already scrolling through their shared Netflix account when Fang joined him in the living room. He was invited to the sofa by Phum’s inviting arms and he found himself going willingly. They didn’t hug very often, Fang wasn’t the type who liked to be touched, but sometimes, with Phum’s steady arms around him and his head safely on Phum’s shoulder, Fang could feel the pieces of his heart reforming in his own chest. Not fixed, never fixed, but closer. Better. Phum kept holding him. Fang got the feeling that they would stay like this until the end of the night and strangely enough, he was okay with that.

They shifted from a, in their positions, slightly uncomfortable hug to comfortable cuddling, with Phum’s arm still steady around Fang’s shoulders and Fang’s head still safe on Phum. This also helped Phum hand over Fang’s birthday present, a simple birthday card. Fang smiled at the photo of Phum and Peem holding their newly adopted elderly cat, who they had dressed in a silly hat, with the text ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY FANG’ hideously edited on top.

Fang had expected a few heartfelt words inside, maybe some money - not that he needed that, but Phum usually didn’t get him much else. Instead, his eyes were attacked by a giant portrait shot of a young man smiling brightly on one side, then some information about said man on the other. His eyes quickly skimmed the page, then the photo, then the page again until ultimately landing on the photo.

“Handsome, isn’t he?” Phum asked. Fang could practically hear the glee in his voice. He didn’t dare look up, lest the heat in his cheeks show.

“What is this supposed to be?” Fang asked, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that he desperately wanted to skip Phum’s question.

“He’s your birthday present.” Phum said nonchalantly. Fang choked on air, then pretended he was having a coughing fit to disguise the noise. “I’ve been thinking that you need to get laid lately so I hired an escort for you!”

Fang coughed some more, slowly detaching his head from Phum’s shoulder. He gave Phum a sceptical look but Phum didn’t seem phased at all, instead only showing an encouraging nod. There was a hint of pride on his face, as if proud that his plan was finally coming together, but there were no other discernible signs that Phum was joking.

“Are you okay? Do you feel well?” Fang asked, concerned, while touching Phum’s face to check his temperature. “Did your brain go delirious from being around paint fumes all the time?”

Phum chuckled. “I’m good, Fang. I seriously think this is a good idea. It’s nothing serious, just a one night stand. Besides, I trust the guy with my life. He’ll be good to you.” Fang furrowed his eyebrows, prompting Phum to explain.

“His name is Tan, he’s one of Peem’s friends. My friends. He studied Engineering as well. He’s been an escort for, like… 5 years, I think? Started when we were still in uni to help pay the bills. He always jokes about being ‘the best in the business’.” Fang snorted. He let his head fall back to Phum’s shoulder, who didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms back around his brother.

“Anyway, all his information is in there.” Phum pointed to the card. “He wrote it himself, I wasn’t even allowed to read it so I guess he had some industry secrets to spill. The date is already set, but I suggest texting him to work out the details anyway. Or to cancel, up to you.”

Fang swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “I can still cancel?” His voice sounded small, suddenly. Fang felt small too, suddenly. More like the 7 year old he had been and nothing like the 24 year old he was now.

“Of course! Up until an hour before the appointment.” Fang groaned.

“Don’t tell me the appointment is in half an hour.” Phum threw his head back, laughing.

“It’s not! It’s tomorrow!”

“It’s tomorrow.” The words echoed through Fang’s brain. It’s tomorrow, it’s tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow is today. It’s today. This stranger named Tan, who is apparently Phum’s friend and also an escort, is coming over to Fang’s apartment tonight, specifically because of that last little detail there. Fang felt like he was going insane.

He’d been going up and down the small space of his apartment all day long, cleaning everywhere then cleaning everywhere again until the walls started approaching him. He fluffled up the pillows on his bed, then the pillows on his sofa and again those on his bed because it wasn’t neat enough, it was never neat enough, he was never- Fang took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time.

Instead, Fang moved himself to the mirror and stared. He’d called Phum in a panic about three hours ago, because what does someone even wear to go meet an escort, and Phum had just laughed and told him to ‘dress comfortable’. Whatever that meant. Fang wasn’t comfortable.

He ended up dressing up a little with sleek black chinos with a black leather belt and a black dress shirt with the top three buttons open. He wore small, silver earrings, a silver bracelet and silver rings. His hair was styled back, away from his face as much as possible, and he wore light makeup. A bit of red lipstick, a small blush, some mascara. Enough to get his confidence up but light enough to hide.

Fang looked at the information on the card again. Tan, 23 years old, studied engineering, 5 years of experience as an escort, date of last STD test: 30/11/2024. He was clean. For some reason, Fang’s brain latched on to this fact. As if it mattered to him. As if he’d need the information later. As if it would come to that.

He’d been fidgety all day. All night, too. He’d barely gotten any sleep knowing that the following night, he wouldn’t be alone in his bed. The thought scared him and he did think about cancelling. He’d even drafted the message in his head, then typed it out at 3am before ultimately deciding to just sleep. When he woke up, the first video on his feed said something about ‘doing it scared’ and he figured maybe that was something to try so the message never got sent out.

There was still an hour before Tan was supposed to arrive. Fang had nothing to do but walk around the apartment a few hundred more times, straightening everything out as much as he could, then changing his outfit and changing it back again, then starting on dinner knowing he couldn’t keep it down because of the nerves. When he checked his phone again, fifteen minutes had passed.

Frustrated, Fang turned off the stove, ready to throw his half-made spaghetti in the bin. He wasn’t eating anyway, not with that knot in his stomach. However, just as he was about to tip over the pan to let its contents fall into the bin, the bell rang. Fang furrowed his brows. There were still 40 minutes until Tan was supposed to be here. Yet, he knew better than to expect anyone else. 

Fang quickly put the pan back in its place on the stove, wiped his hands and made his way to the front door. Once there, he had to take a deep breath, then another, and a third one, before finally reaching for the doorknob. He opened the door just enough to show half his body, one hand staying on the doorknob to fiddle with it nervously.

“Oh! Hi!” Tan smiled brightly, one hand coming up to wave enthusiastically. “I’m a little early, I hope that’s okay.”

He looked… normal. Fang was definitely overdressed, that was for sure. Tan was wearing a simple grey tank top and black shorts. A few rings adorned the long fingers of his veiny hands and he didn’t seem to have put too much effort in his hair, which spiked in all directions. He also had a backpack, Fang noticed. He had to swallow down the thoughts of what could possibly be in there.

“Hello.” Fang answered, voice sounding impossibly small.

“Damn, I totally misread the vibes. You should’ve told me you were going to show up looking that pretty, I would’ve worn something fancier!” Fang felt his cheeks heating up.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, eyes cast down to the floor.

“Hey, none of that. It’s my fault entirely, I should’ve asked.” Tan spoke, a determined tone in his voice that Fang didn’t quite understand. Yet, the words embedded themself in his brain.

“Can I come in?” Tan asked, an eager look on his face.

“Ah- right-” Fang quickly opened the door completely, making space for Tan to step into his apartment. Tan’s eyes were full of wonder as he entered Fang’s apartment.

“Gods, your house is so pretty. Even more so than Phum’s and I always thought he had impeccable taste. I guess it runs in the family, then.” Tan commented as he took his shoes off. Fang closed the door behind him awkwardly.

“Guess so.” If Tan picked up on his nerves, he certainly didn’t let it show.

“What I wouldn’t give to live in a house like this…” Tan sighed, slowly moving into the living room, carefully stepping around the pieces of Fang’s heart in the hallway like he knew they were there. “Oh! You were cooking! Well, don’t let me keep you. It’s important to stay nourished.”

“Ah… right.” Fang was entirely too awkward to tell Tan that he was about to throw it all away and the food looked nowhere near edible enough to be passed off as leftovers, so Fang turned the fire back on. Tan took a comfortable seat at Fang’s dining table, watching him move around the kitchen.

“Do you want some?” Fang managed to ask after several moments of heavy, awkward silence. Tan shook his head.

“Maybe a few bites but I had dinner already. Though, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have eaten anything, with such a tasty meal ready for me here.” Fang blushed violently. He was extremely grateful to be able to turn his back to Tan so his cheeks wouldn’t show.

As Fang prepared and then ate his dinner, the kitchen stayed silent, save for Fang’s rummaging and Tan’s breathing. Tan ended up not eating anything, seemingly content to just watch Fang eat. He had this stupid smile on his face as his head rested on his hand. If Fang didn’t know any better, he’d think Tan was looking at him the exact same way Peem looked at Phum: smitten and hopelessly in love.

A piece of Fang’s heart hurtled itself across the table to stick to Tan’s glass of water, much to Fang’s horror. Even worse, it clung to Tan’s thumb as he picked up the glass, then ended up on his cheek as he drank and stayed there. Fang had to resist the urge to reach out and reclaim the piece, if only because he really didn’t know how he was supposed to act in this situation and he didn’t want to come across as flirty too early in the evening.

“Wow, all done! You’re such a good boy.” Tan beamed when Fang swallowed his last bite. Instantly, he felt his cheeks flush and he dropped his utensils to subtly hide his face behind his hand. Tan seemed entirely unbothered as he got up. “Let me take care of the cleaning for you.”

They cleaned up together, for the sole reason that Fang had too much pride to let another clean after his mess. His brain was doing laps around the racetrack as he was drying, trying to find something, anything, to say that could clear up the awkward air around them. He could feel that the blush on his cheeks had not yet disappeared. Fang wondered if Tan would judge him for it or if he likes all his clients like this, flustered and unsure what to do with themselves.

By the time Fang got done drying the last plate, Tan had already made his way to the sofa with a fresh glass of water. He sat in the corner, exactly where he could see Fang drawing deep breaths because surely, something was about to happen by now and he wasn’t sure he was quite ready for it. With a bright smile, Tan invited him over.

“Come, have a seat! I think we should have a talk.” He looked innocent, a bright smile on his face. Fang swallowed his nerves. Tan had gestured to the general direction of the sofa, which Fang took as an invite to sit as far away as possible. He sat down at the edge of the sofa, hands folded neatly in his lap and his mind racing because oh gods it was happening, he wasn’t ready, help, help, help.

“What do you want to talk about?” Fang’s voice had never sounded that small in his life. Not even when he got hit for the first time, after he had tried to make spaghetti for his family when Phum had fallen ill and everyone had been at the hospital all day. His mum had been pretty disappointed and his dad had called him useless for the first time. He hadn’t had the strength of mind or voice to tell them that he’d burned himself pretty badly. He had walked around with a blister on his hand for days before his older brother had noticed something was wrong.

Actually, now that he was thinking about it, Fang didn’t remember the last time he’d felt this uncomfortable. After that first beating, he had quickly learned to keep himself in check, to keep himself away from pain. With this, he also learned to keep himself away from any dangerous or uncomfortable situations. He’d managed to live a pretty peaceful life like that, never repeating any actions that caused him pain. That’s also why he hadn’t had a partner since his last relationship had gone off the rails.

“Hey, earth to Fang! Are you still with me?” Across from Fang, Tan smiled brightly, one hand raised in a waving motion.

“Uh, yeah…” Fang answered intelligently.

“Awesome! So, as I was saying, I always have a talk with my clients, new or old. I want people to be comfortable around me, you know? So I use open communication, and I try to get to know my clients as much as possible. Do you understand?” Tan tilted his head, attempting to look into Fang’s downcast eyes. Fang made a non-committal noise in acknowledgement.

“You’re a special case, though, since you didn’t book me yourself. And since I know a few things about you through Phum. Regardless, I want to learn about you from you so please, tell me something about yourself. Anything you want to share.”

Fang stared at the boy in front of him for a few seconds. He still didn’t know what to do, how he should act or how he should hold himself, and now he got this curveball thrown at him. When Phum said he’d hired an escort for the night, having casual conversation with them was at the bottom of Fang’s list of expectations. Not that the list was very long, since he didn’t know what to expect in the first place, but his point stands.

“Right…” He started, feeling the words heavy on his tongue. He cleared his throat, sat up a little straighter and, with his hands still neatly folded in his lap and his eyes still cast downwards, began to speak.

“Right, well… My full name is Khaofang but I go by Fang. I’m 24 years old. I work as an architect at SCG Heim. I spend most of my time there, I barely spend any time at home normally. I don’t really have any hobbies. Sometimes I like to hang out with Phum, sometimes Peem joins us. We normally just watch series, or a movie or something like that. I don’t really know many people besides them. I’m… I’m single, too.” It felt like an important detail to add, though Fang didn’t really know why. Something in Tan’s eyes changed when he said it but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“SCG Heim, hm? Don’t they make those incredibly fancy houses?”

“They do, yes. They call it ‘The Ultimate of Living’. They’re just big, expensive houses. I like designing for the Care Series the most, they’re accessible houses for the elderly and disabled.”

“That’s sweet, I like that. I reckon it pays well, too. Do they still need engineers?” Tan mused, a thoughtful finger on his chin. Fang looked up to make eye contact for the first time this evening.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t really pay attention to that. I could ask, if you want me to. Or they might have vacancies listed on the website.”

“Nah, don’t bother, it’s fine. I’m happy with my current job. I also use my engineering skills in my dad’s garage, so. None of my talents get wasted!”

Fang feels his face drop, his eyes finding another interesting dark spot on his flooring. Right, Tan’s job. The only reason he’s here. The one thing that Fang constantly felt in the air between them, despite Tan’s obvious efforts to ignore it. To him, it hung visible between them as a whirlpool of black thread, impossibly connecting them in the mess. Tan seemed to either not see it or he flat-out refused to acknowledge it. 

Either way, it bothered Fang that they didn’t talk about it, didn’t talk about their expectations, didn’t talk about what Tan wanted from him. Not that Fang was about to start that conversation, he preferred an evening like this. He preferred making light conversation for an hour or so, then sending Tan on his way to have fun with someone else and never seeing him again. 

Fang still wasn’t sure what Phum was thinking when he orchestrated all this. He also grew increasingly more aware of the silence that hung between them and was dragging on for a little bit too long, and Tan’s expectant face that told him he was supposed to continue the conversation.

“Why are you here?” Fang’s voice came out a lot smaller than anticipated, yet his tone startled even himself. He hadn’t meant to sound that harsh and judgemental. Luckily for him, Tan looked like he hadn’t heard him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind speaking up a little, or would you prefer me to move a little closer so you don’t have to change your volume?” Tan looked like he just needed a small nod from Fang to make his move and get closer, almost like a hunter patiently waiting for their prey. Despite this, he made no actual effort to move. Fang almost felt like the decision was his to make.

“I asked, what are your expectations for this evening?” Fang decided to speak up, softening his question a little bit. Tan seemed to sink back into the sofa, his expression unreadable to Fang.

“Oh! None at all! I don’t tend to meet people with expectations in my head, that usually only stains my first meeting with them.” Tan looked like he may have wanted to say more, then bit his tongue. Fang silently hoped he would continue talking, if only so he wouldn’t have to. When that didn’t happen, he took it upon himself to break the silence yet again.

“None? Are you sure? You must have had some ideas, especially since Phum told you about me.” He questioned, sceptical.

“I mean, I guess I don’t expect to play out a rough BDSM scene today, but that’s about it. I’d like to leave the filling of our time together up to you. Whatever you want to do, I’m all for it.” Tan smiled brightly, as if he was trying to convince Fang of those words. Fang could only wonder if that was really true. 

“Is that… Do you normally do that for your clients?” He didn’t dare look up this time, afraid that his eyes would betray his own emotions. Whatever those were, anyway. He didn’t have the time to figure all that out now.

“Yes! Every new person I see, the first meeting is all up to them. After that, I usually know what to expect. Also, normally we would have a chat like this, talk about expectations, do’s and don’ts and whatnot. Every person is different, you see. I can’t go in expecting the same from everyone.”

“Can you…” Was Fang really about to ask this? Really? How did it come to this?

“Can you tell me about your job? What sorts of things you do, I mean. Please.”

“Of course! I can’t go into too much detail, though, client protection and all that.” Fang sank into his seat a little, finally feeling some of the tension dissipate.

“Honestly, most of my people are pretty chill. There’s this sweet older man who just wants someone to have dinner with every week. There’s a girl I see sometimes who just wants her sexual needs taken care of every once in a while. Oh, and I’m helping a young boy discover his sexuality! He’s still a teenager so I refuse to touch him at all, but we talk all the time. His parents actually hired me for him so he’d have a safe place to go to, it’s pretty sweet. Of course, I also do scenes with a few people. Bondage, spanking, pet play, that kind of stuff.”

The last sentence has Fang blushing like crazy. He’d never heard someone speak of those things so casually, like it was everyday business. Well, Fang guessed, for Tan it probably was. Fang wondered how high Tan’s stamina should be, considering his job. Would he have a high sex drive? Wait, why was he thinking about that? It didn’t interest him at all!

“R-right…” Fang stammered, unable to convince even himself of his faked comfort. He wasn’t even looking at Tan, yet he couldn’t ignore the giant smile his next question ignited on the boy’s face. “W-what’s that like?”

“It’s fun! Well, for me it is at least. You have to be into it, though. It’s not fun for everyone.”

“I don’t think it would be fun for me…” Fang murmured softly, and where the fuck had that admission just come from?

“And that’s okay! To each their own.” Even from the corner of his eye, Fang could see that huge smile on Tan’s face again. He raised his eyes a little, not quite looking at Tan but also not quite not looking at him. Maybe his lap was a good place to look? Or not, because now his head was filling with the thought of those thighs being put to good use and- He had to stop. He was staring. It was creepy. He didn’t need his dick stirring more.

“Honestly… I- I haven’t… Gods, this is embarrassing.”

“Hey, just remember, you don’t have to share anything. Whatever you want. I could talk about the weather all evening if you’d prefer that.” Fang didn’t prefer that, he realised with a start. Sure, this stuff was embarrassing to talk about, but an opportunity had presented itself, he was getting hard anyway and Tan was such a handsome boy as well… 

“Right, no, it’s okay. Phum was right… I guess. What I was trying to say… I haven’t really… done… anything, so to speak. In a long time, that is. I… I used to have a boyfriend. A girlfriend too, before that. It’s been a while.” Fang let go of his breath and, with it, his anxiety as well. He’d finally said it, he’d finally admitted his inexperience with this stuff to, arguably, the one person with expectations in that direction.

Slowly, Fang dares to look at Tan. He doesn’t notice much of the boy’s expression, rather his focus is on the tangled mess of black thread between them. It’s unravelling itself, Fang notices. Slowly, a path becomes clear to him. It’s not straightforward, it still looks like quite the bumpy ride, but it’s clear. Fang has a general direction to hold on to.

“No STD’s.” He feels the need to add after a short silence. Tan appears appreciative of his comment.

“Then, can I ask you something?.” And there was a pause, as if Fang could deny Tan asking questions. The pause continued until Fang nodded his head slightly and Fang almost believed that Tan wouldn’t have talked if he hadn’t agreed. “Do you want to do anything sexual? In general, I mean. It doesn’t have to be right here right now with me.”

Fang does. He knows he does. Without a doubt. He wants to share that connection with someone, preferably someone he loves. If only he had the courage and a sense of direction, he would’ve been unstoppable. He’d probably already have a partner by now and none of this would have been necessary.

None of those words leave his mouth.

“I’m… not sure.” He says instead, because admitting that he can be horny like a teenager is intimidating. Tan smiles knowingly and still doesn’t move and Fang might be going a little insane.

“Well, let me know when you are.” With that, the conversation feels over. Tan finally turns his attention to the series Fang put on a century ago. Most of the first episode has already passed. Fang sighs. He is definitely going to have to rewatch this later, when his attention can actually be on the TV.

Right now, all his attention is on Tan. His lovely side profile, the way he’s relaxed back on Fang’s sofa, the way his shirt has ridden up a little to expose a part of his slim waist, the exposed skin of his thighs where his shorts don’t reach. Fang watches him, watches him react to the events in the series like he carries his emotions on his face instead of storing them somewhere in the depths of his broken heart.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to him. A boy like this, he’d be insane to let him go at all. He’s pretty sure he wants to touch him tonight, and then again tomorrow, and maybe he wants to be touched the day after, and then he wants to go on a date and see if that works out. He wants Tan to never leave. A piece of his heart rolls itself between his fiddling fingers.

Fang needs a reason to move. He downs his glass of water, then wordlessly checks Tan’s glass. It doesn’t need refilling yet, so he just gets up to give himself some more water. It gives him the opportunity to move a little and inconspicuously shake off his nerves in the process. When he returns to the sofa, Tan’s glass is empty. He puts his own glass back on the table, significantly closer to Tan this time.

“Do you want some more water? Or something else to drink maybe, I have some soda in the fridge if you want it.”

“Water is fine, thank you!” Tan looks up, smiling brightly. In his eyes, Fang detects a hint of understanding, like Tan knows what game Fang is playing. If he does, Fang would appreciate him sharing it. He honestly has no clue what he’s doing. After a healthy five seconds of looking into each other’s eyes - yes Fang was counting, what of it - Fang finally moves to refill Tan’s water.

He sits back down on the sofa, away from his comfortable position in the corner and considerably closer to the chance of ‘accidentally’ touching Tan’s legs. He hands Tan the glass, then watches the boy down half of it in one go. Fang knows why, he saw it when he sat down. For all his poise, Tan isn’t any less affected by Fang than Fang is by Tan.

Fang decides not to say anything, not yet. He needs to let his thoughts run rampant for a while first. Not that he wants to get into one of his overthinking spiels, but it’s probably a good idea to get the anxiety out of the way first, so he does.

He isn’t afraid of one thing in particular, he notes. He’s afraid of the experience in general, of not liking it in the end and facing the consequences. But then again, he’s also afraid of liking it too much and possibly scaring Tan away. And what if he accidentally spills his inner thoughts, like wanting Tan to stay forever? He would never be able to face Tan again. Or Phum, for that matter.

There’s another problem, though. Fang doesn’t think he can afford letting go of his control over the situation, if they were to come to…sex. He hasn’t done much of it in his life and for that reason, he needs to be in control. That and he’s aware that he’s incapable of saying ‘no’. At least, if he’s in control, he gets to decide what exactly happens.

If it had been anyone else, Fang thinks he might not have had a hard time taking control, but if he’s read Tan correctly… He thinks Tan might like to be in control as well. Fang isn’t ready to fight him for it, to be honest. He feels the need to ask Tan, almost. Well, he would’ve asked if he’d had a bit more courage. He settles for looking into Tan’s eyes, trying to read his thoughts and draw his conclusion from there.

Fang has sabotaged himself a little, he now sees. In wanting to sit closer to Tan, he’s made it impossible for himself to look at him without turning his head to its full range of motion, which is a horribly obvious movement to make. He could, however, see the knee and parts of the upper thigh of Tan’s left leg and he could fantasise what it would be like to run his hand along the smooth skin there, getting to caress all the parts of Tan’s beautiful body…

It was those thoughts that ended up leading him to his voice. Fang swallowed his nerves, then again, then a third time for good measure. He took a sip of his water, hoping to distract himself from the growing tension in the room. Maybe, if he distracted himself enough, maybe-

“Tan.”

 -maybe the words would flow from him automatically. And they did! Yay him.

“Hm?” Tan lets out a soft hum. He looks like he’s actively trying to keep his attention on the series instead of turning his head or jumping Fang’s bones on the spot. From the way his body shakes a little, Fang deduces that it’s taking him a lot of effort.

“Please, come over here.” Fang says. His voice is breathy, making him sound about as horny as he feels. He’d meant to say it as a question, but it ended up coming out as something more akin to an order. Tan moves immediately. Fang doesn’t miss the soft ‘fuck me’ whispered under Tan’s breath, but he pretends he did.

“I thought you’d never ask.” With a sultry smile, Tan sits his ass down on the small table in front of Fang so they can face each other. Fang had half expected them to kiss instantly, seeing as they were both pretty worked up. Instead, Tan just sits, awaiting Fang’s next order like a good boy. And he is, Fang thinks. Such a good boy, such a handsome boy, just for him- 

He stops himself again. What is he even thinking? He wants to ‘ravage Tan’? ‘Ruin him for everyone else’? He has no right to that, he barely has the right to touch him. He needs to stop, before he spirals into an obsession he can’t get himself out of. Plus, he needs to focus right now, because Tan is still sitting in front of him, completely unmoving, reading his expressions like they’re his favourite novel.

“First touch?” Tan helps Fang out of his misery, offering to take the first step. He holds his hand up like he’s asking for a high-five, fingers relaxed. Fang brings his own hand to the same position, letting just the nail of his ring finger touch Tan’s ring finger. He hesitates for a single second. With a clearer mind, he might’ve backed out at this exact moment, but all rationale went out the window long ago. Right now, all he can think about is touch, I need to touch him. So he does.

Fang moves his hand forward, intertwining his fingers with Tan’s as he goes. They’re both watching the movement but the moment Fang pushes their palms flush together, Tan shifts his attention to Fang’s face. He gives a soft smile, squeezing Fang’s hand lightly. Immediately, Fang lets go of his grip, letting just one finger run down the length of Tan’s index finger. He moves his hand down, letting it slide along Tan’s arm to his elbow, before slowly dragging two fingers back up to his wrist. When he hears Tan’s soft sigh, he repeats the movement, making it a point to look in Tan’s eyes this time. They flutter closed as Fang moves a finger over his skin, barely touching at all, and he lets out another pretty sigh.

When he reaches Tan’s wrist, he interlocks their fingers again. Then, he pulls on Tan’s hand softly with the intent of bringing the two of them closer together. Tan’s upper body goes willingly but, much to Fang’s discontent, his lower body doesn’t fly into his lap like he wanted it to. Instead, he suddenly finds himself dangerously close to Tan’s mouth.

He lets himself feel Tan’s slightly ragged breath on his face for a few seconds. When he runs his finger down Tan’s arm again, he welcomes the stagger in Tan’s breath, as well as the sinful expression on Tan’s face. If he saves the image in a mental folder for future reference, that’s his own business. He’s allowed to take whatever he wants from the experience anyway. If he wants to tie Tan up and never let him go, that’s his own business as well.

Fang needs a second. He’s a little too worked up for his own good, his mind is nowhere near clear enough, he feels milliseconds away from simply grabbing Tan’s face and taking what he wants from him. None of those things are doing anything for his sanity. He needs a reason to move again. 

He tilts his head just slightly so he needs to look up to look at Tan, then whispers, “One moment.” 

Fang, again, does not miss the way Tan curses under his breath as he gets up, nor does he miss the way Tan rubs his face and takes deep breaths to collect himself behind Fang’s back. He briefly wonders if he’s supposed to hear it, if it’s an act Tan is putting up as part of his job, but then he turns around from having closed the curtains and he sees Tan’s half-lidded eyes, the blush on his cheeks. He sees him leaning back on his hands, his head thrown back and his legs stretched out in front of him and Fang is a little ashamed to say that all thoughts left his head instantly. All except one; touch. I want to touch him.

He resists the urge to grab Tan’s waist when he sits back down, opting to reach beyond his body and grab both his arms instead. He pulls softly, and Tan’s body follows again. It’s kind of beautiful, Fang thinks, how Tan responds to him. He doesn’t allow himself to linger on the thought of Tan’s behaviour with his other clients, choosing instead to revel in the way Tan lets his head roll forwards to the point where it’s resting on his own shoulder and he’s looking at Fang sideways, still refusing to open his eyes completely.

Fang makes sure he lowers his body so he has to look up to the handsome boy in front of him. His hands play with Tan’s, his fingers, his rings, while his eyes move up and down Tan’s face, from his hair to his eyes, his cute little nose, down to his perfect lips. When he looks back into Tan’s eyes, he catches the boy staring as well. The look he gives Fang is one of hunger and impatience, like he’s on the verge of taking matters into his own hands if Fang doesn’t move soon.

It’s that look, Fang decides, that’s going to drive him insane tonight and haunt his dreams the following month or so. It’s that look that’s going to be plastered all over his mind, shaping his thoughts, seeping into the foundations of his carefully built walls and rendering him unable to function. Fang needs to know if it will be worse once he’s tasted Tan’s lips, he needs to know just how far gone he will be when he does, he needs to know just how much of his walls Tan will shatter. He leans in.

“Ask me.” Tan whispers when they’re only about an inch apart, his voice husky. Fang almost feels the words being spoken against his face. “Ask me if this is what I want. Ask my consent.”

Fang’s eyes flicker down for a second, to where both their hands are still joined together. He hasn’t been turned on this much by a single sentence in so long. He swallows a lump in his throat, then looks back up, attempting a neutral expression but probably failing horribly. He flutters his eyelashes a little.

“Tan. Can I please kiss you?”

There’s no missing the soft 'fuck' that rolls from Tan’s tongue. Tan doesn’t try to hide the expression on his face either, allowing Fang a front seat view of how lust crowds his very being, visible in all parts of him. Fang gets caught up in it, wants to see it again and again and again, until the end of his days.

“God,” Tan starts, his voice all breath. He needs to swallow before continuing. “When you ask like that, who am I to deny you anything?”

And just like that, Fang is hard. He feels his dick straining against his trousers and he kind of regrets putting on something skin-tight now. And as much as he wants to lean forwards and do something about it, he doesn’t move. Fang knows what consent is and he knows he didn’t hear an explicit ‘yes’ just now. Or maybe he just likes to tease. Either way, he locks eyes with Tan, tries to give a sign of encouragement and waits.

With a feeling akin to infatuation, Fang watches the expressions on Tan’s face shift. He wonders what it’s like to have your every thought spelled out to the world, easily deciphered from your face every time it changes. It must be tiring to try so hard to hide your confusion, when it finally settles, and still have the person opposite you read it like you’ve just explained your thought process to them in painful detail.

Fang leans in, only to rub their noses together, feeling Tan’s breath on his face stagger as he does so. He does it again, looking directly in Tan’s eyes this time. Tan grows a little more impatient, it seems. He looks about seconds away from launching himself into Fang’s arms. Maybe he’s been teased enough. Fang moves his face to the side of Tan’s head, his mouth close to Tan’s ear, where he can whisper his demand. 

“I need a ‘yes’, darling.”

Tan’s entire body shudders. Fang feels the goosebumps form under his fingertips. The moan that escapes Tan’s mouth is poorly concealed, not in the very least because Fang’s ear is right there and very sensitive to such a sound.

"Fuck... and here I was thinking you couldn’t get any hotter…” Fang feels Tan’s hands wrap around his face, leaving Fang’s hands in Tan’s lap, on Tan’s thighs-

“Please, Fang, please, for the love of god, kiss me. I want it so badly, plea-”

Fang can’t wait any longer, not when Tan is begging like that. He lunges forwards, crashing their lips together. Tan’s fingers curl in his neck, trying to bring him even closer, maybe trying to get him to kiss harder, but he doesn’t. Fang starts slowly, savouring the feeling of Tan’s lips against his. Fang moves his mouth tenderly, forcing Tan to follow his rhythm despite the boy basically vibrating with energy. He moves his tongue along Tan’s mouth and he opens up instantly, seemingly desperate for anything Fang gives him.

Fang keeps his movements tender as he explores Tan’s mouth. He lets his tongue roam all over as Tan whines and pulls his hair and shudders again under Fang’s fingertips, trying desperately to speed up the rhythm. Fang’s hands are still near Tan’s legs so he grabs onto the boy’s thighs and that’s when he notices just how much Tan is moving his body. Was he- Fang needs a moment to process. Was Tan grinding on the table?

With their lips now detached, Fang gets about a second of staring at Tan’s blissed out state and he still catches the last bit of movement from Tan’s hips on the table. His eyes are closed, his breathing ragged, his lips glistening and swollen and red and so pretty. Tan looks so pretty. Even when he opens his eyes, the haze in them only stays for a second, and then Fang can see something light up in his eyes, as if he just thought of something funny, or maybe he remembered something. For a second, he seems to be thinking about something, and then that beautiful, beautiful haze is back.

"Faannggg~" Tan whines prettily, detangling his hands from Fang’s hair to lean forward, his elbows now leaning on Fang’s shoulders. He lets his forehead rest against Fang’s, eyes flickering between Fang’s eyes and his mouth two, three times before finally landing on his mouth. Tan licks his lips, his beautifully swollen lips, as he shuffles forward on the table a little.

“More, please. Fang, can I please touch you?” With a chuckle, Fang lets some of the excitement in his body dissipate. He tries to maintain control, of both his breath and his head, but his breath comes out shaky and his mind is running a million laps because that was so hot, Tan is so hot, I need to touch him-

“Aren’t you already?” He asks, teases, still unable to control the tension seeping through his voice. If Tan notices, he doesn’t comment. Fang makes sure he has a brow raised when Tan opens his eyes a little.

"Fang, " he breathes, still a little whiny. “I need more. Can’t you touch me? Please?”

He’s so hot, Fang thinks. He thinks very little else when he leans in again and Tan’s eyes flutter shut in anticipation.

“Okay.” He whispers, unsure of what he’s agreeing to. He hopes Tan will give him some ropes to lead him in the right direction soon. “Whatever you want, pretty boy.”

Tan shudders again, a soft whimper leaving his mouth. Then, his eyes open fully and he’s staring at Fang in earnest.

“You too. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to touch, you have my permission.” Fang swears he hears Tan whisper something akin to ‘only you’ under his breath, but his heart is beating loudly and he can hear his own breath and it’s what he wants to hear so maybe he’s just imagining things.

Tan lets his head drop on Fang’s shoulder. He takes a deep breath in and out, the air flowing past the outside of Fang’s thin shirt, ghosting over his skin. Fang feels goosebumps forming. Tan does it again, blowing some extra air in the direction of Fang’s chest. In response, Fang moves one hand up to Tan’s face, gently pushing his head off of Fang’s shoulder so he’s forced to look at him. He then moves both his hands to the outside of Tan’s thighs and grips them tightly enough to pull Tan forwards, almost moving him off the table entirely. Tan does not try to conceal his yelp and Fang does not conceal what the noise makes him feel. It takes less than a second for their lips to reattach.

Instantly, Fang explodes. Tan’s lips on him are desperate and demanding. He’s rough, kissing Fang like a man starved, and Fang lets him. He kisses back just as roughly, fighting back, nipping at Tan’s bottom lip whenever he gets the chance. His mind is hazy, he’s barely aware of his hands slowly riding up Tan’s thighs and the way Tan’s muscles clench under his fingers in response and he can’t keep up, he’s losing control-

Fang does not open his mouth for Tan’s prodding tongue when he feels it. Instead, his grip on Tan’s thighs tightens again and he’s pulling, lifting Tan from the table and into his lap, making the boy straddle him. He isn’t sure whether the yelp was supposed to cover up the moaning of Fang’s name or the other way around, but Fang knows instantly that there’s very little in the world he wouldn’t do to hear those sounds mixed again.

"Fuck-” Tan moans again shamelessly. Fang digs his fingers in the flesh of the boy’s legs. When he takes a moment to look down, he isn’t surprised to see a piece of his heart pressed between his thumb and Tan’s skin. Something in him is nagging at him, telling him to remove it. It doesn’t belong there. Tan doesn’t want it there. Fang doesn’t listen.

“What?” He asks, feigning innocence. “You were the one grinding on the table. I just figured you should do it somewhere you could put those hips to actual use. Wouldn’t you agree, darling?"

Tan moans, loudly this time. He stretches his arms, his hands holding on to Fang’s shoulders as he leans backwards, arching his back beautifully, lifts his hips a little and, in one fluid motion, grinds his ass directly into Fang’s crotch. Fang can’t stop the ‘oh’ leaving his mouth because he’s dizzy and he feels Tan circling his hips a little and the pressure is so good- and then it’s gone. 

He opens his eyes to look at Tan, to see what he’s doing, but he doesn’t get the chance to act before Tan repeats the motion with a little more vigor, rolling his hips up against Fang as if it’s his dying act and they’re moaning together and Fang can’t do anything but throw his head back and tighten his grip on Tan’s thighs and moan because it’s so good, he feels, so good. Tan is so good, just for him-

Tan adds fuel to the fire by attaching his lips to Fang’s neck, sucking and biting lightly as he makes his way up to the spot where Fang’s neck meets his jaw. Fang turns his head a little to give more access but Tan stops, choosing to nose at his skin instead.

“You don’t mind some hickeys, do you?” Tan asks, his voice hoarse and sexy, his smirk telling. Fang lets out a shaky breath in an attempt to compose himself.

“Take off my shirt.” He commands. Tan wastes no time following his order, making quick work of the buttons on his fancy dress shirt. It gets discarded somewhere Fang doesn’t care about because Tan’s hazy eyes are roaming his skin and for a split-second, something primal shows before Tan pushes it down. The boy’s hands are quick to follow his eyes, gliding over Fang’s skin and ripping soft whimpers from Fang’s mouth.

“You want to mark me up, right?” Fang asks, a lot less controlled than he might’ve liked, one hand on Tan’s chin to make him face him. Tan doesn’t answer, just licks his lips, his beautifully red, swollen, glistening lips that Fang can’t get enough of. Fang reaches up for a quick peck, his hand disappearing in Tan’s hair, and then he’s pulling Tan’s head down to where he wants it most. “Well, go on then. Mark me properly, make sure everyone knows I belong to you.”

The growl that leaves Tan’s mouth isn’t out of place with the way he instantly latches on to Fang’s nipple, biting and sucking and licking until Fang is moaning and he can’t control his breathing anymore. Tan’s hips never stop their ministrations on Fang’s crotch and it’s so good, the pressure is so good and Fang suddenly feels like he’s suffocating in his trousers. He’s overcome with the need to take them off, and quickly too, so he pushes Tan aside, placing him on the sofa next to Fang so he can take his trousers off.

In just his boxers, Fang still feels constricted but a lot less so. He lets his trousers fall to the floor, not really caring where they end up. Next to him, Tan is breathing heavily, his torso moving up and down quickly as he tries to regain some semblance of composure. Fang leans over, tilts the boy’s head his way and initiates a soft kiss.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, watching Tan swallow saliva a few times before opening his eyes.

“More than.” He assures, smiling brightly. God, he’s beautiful, Fang’s brain helpfully supplies. Tan lets his head hit the sofa cushions as he closes his eyes again. “God, Fang, you’re so…” He trails off. Fang waits with bated breath. He’s been called many things in his life, very little of them good, so he doesn’t really know what to expect. Yet, Tan doesn’t really seem like the type of person to call his lover nasty names, so maybe it won’t be all bad.

“... gorgeous. So gorgeous. Otherworldly. You’re doing so well.” 

The praise goes straight to Fang’s head. He doesn’t know what to say in response, so he just plants his lips back on Tan’s, where he likes them best. His hands wander down Tan’s body to the hem of his top, which he quickly flips up and over Tan’s head. He makes quick work of the button on Tan’s shorts as well, hooks his thumbs under the waistband, then pauses momentarily. He wonders if it would be appropriate to take Tan’s underwear off already. He wonders even more what Tan looks like naked, so he just goes ahead and takes everything off in one fell swoop. Tan doesn’t protest.

Tan seems just about as glad to be free from his constraints as Fang. His dick looks painfully hard where it stands upright, almost touching Tan’s stomach. Fang is mesmerised. Despite having had a boyfriend before, he’d never actually touched another man before. He’s more than happy to have Tan be his first.

He wraps his hand around Tan’s dick, feeling it twitch a little under his touch. He watches as Tan’s breathing speeds up, his chest rising and falling quickly. He hadn’t even done anything yet, and Tan was already responding to him so beautifully. Fang feels like he could probably keep this up all night, just softly touching Tan, taking his time to find all his sensitive spots until he’s a writhing mess under him. Fang also feels like he probably shouldn’t do that, judging from Tan’s impatient expression.

Instead, he gives a tentative tug, and the reaction is instant. Tan is whimpering, his brows crashing together, his toes curling and his back arching off the sofa, chasing the feeling of Fang’s hand. The sight makes Fang go insane a little bit and, much to Tan’s obvious dismay, he lets go just to grab on to Tan’s hips, pulling him into his lap once again. Tan is blushing when he opens his eyes, barely able to look Fang in the eyes. Fang tilts his head and kisses him again and again and again, until Tan is too distracted to feel Fang’s hand circle around his waist and dip down, finding his hole almost instantly. Tan yelps in surprise and jumps up and away from the feeling of slight pressure on his ass, pressing his body into Fang’s.

"Fuck me,” he whispers, more to himself than to Fang, yet Fang can’t help himself.

“Planning on it.” He whispers back. Tan whimpers.

“Ride me.” Fang then asks, louder. Tan whimpers again, humming his approval. He immediately moves to take Fang’s boxers away from him, but Fang stops him, trying to display a stern look in his eyes.

“You need prep, don’t you?” He asks, sounding more sure than he feels. Tan shakes his head.

“It’s fine, I can go without.”

“No, you can’t.” Fang argues again, holding Tan’s wrists still.

“I’ll prep on your dick. Please, just fuck me. I want you, Fang, please~” Tan whines, eyes sultry and full of lust, and damn, if Fang had been a weaker man, he’d be a goner. Luckily for Tan, he wasn’t.

“You know, I was going to let you fuck my fingers… but just for that, you get to prep yourself.” Tan moans at the idea of Fang’s fingers in him, but the noise disappears as quick as it came when he realises that it won’t happen. 

"Please, Fang, I want your fingers, please let me have them, please, please, please~” He tries to beg. He looks so pretty when he begs, his eyes half closed, his mouth running off and his mind flooded with just one thing. Yet, Fang isn’t having it. Not in the least because he genuinely doesn’t know how to and he doesn’t want to hurt Tan, so he doesn’t give in. Instead, he guides Tan’s own hand to his ass.

“No. Today, you get to learn consequences for your actions. Hasn’t anyone done that for you yet?” Fang grins as he feels Tan start to circle his own rim, his breathing growing uneven again. Then, Tan stops briefly to give Fang a pointed look.

“I usually top.” He admits and then he’s inserting a finger at the same Fang’s brain inserts a picture of himself on his knees, ass up, begging Tan to fuck him and oh, if that isn’t a thought… Fang wouldn’t mind. Maybe next time. This time, he needs Tan working those beautiful thighs of his in Fang’s view.

By the time he pulls himself from his thoughts, he’s about twice as hard - if that were still possible - and Tan is already pulling on his boxers again. Fang stops him with a simple gesture.

"Faaanngg~” Tan whines, continuing to pull on his boxers. Fang lets him. “I’m done, really. You can feel for yourself. Please, just let me- ah!" A high-pitched noise leaves Tan’s mouth when the tip of Fang’s index finger breaches him. He instantly slumps, pushing himself a little further down Fang’s finger, grinding and rolling his hips as much as Fang will let him. Fang honestly doesn’t think that he’s loose enough, but he’s not an expert on the topic and he really, really wants to fuck Tan already, so he’s willing to accept it.

“Fine.” He says and Tan smiles sloppily, continuing to grind on Fang’s finger. “But don’t come crying to me when it hurts.” He pulls Tan up by the hips, freeing his hand. Tan whines softly but quickly swallows the noise when Fang instead brings the head of his dick close. He strokes himself a few times, smearing his pre-cum all over. He hopes it’s enough.

“Believe me, if you manage to make me cry, which you won’t, they’ll be happy tears o- oh- on-ly.” Fang has had enough of his attitude. He bucks his hips up, keeping Tan in place as he breaches him roughly and quickly. The noise it elicits from Tan is sinful, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and he hears his own name spill from Tan’s lips several times between the whispered curses.

He’s a little too busy watching Tan, making sure he’s okay, to really register how he feels himself until Tan sinks down a little further and suddenly Fang is breathless, pleasure pooling at the base of his spine, and it’s so much, he’s feeling so much and he can’t constrain the moans spilling from his lips, doesn’t want to, and he’s gripping Tan’s hips so tightly just to keep him in place because holy shit- and he needs a second.

When he finally opens his eyes, he sees that Tan isn’t faring much better. His head is thrown back, his mouth open in silent moans, his hands digging nails into Fang’s wrists. His legs are shaking, probably because he’s straining to keep himself up, so Fang allows him the relief of sinking completely so he can sit while Fang collects his sanity. They moan together as Tan slides all the way down and again when Fang adjusts his position a tiny bit.

For a second they’re just breathing together, laboured breaths mingling, heaving chests touching occasionally. Fang lets go of his tight grip on Tan’s legs, instead rubbing soft circles over the sore spots he’s certainly created. He closes his eyes, allowing himself to really feel his feelings, the tightness around him, the heat pooling in his stomach, the way he’s overcome with the urge to just fuck into Tan himself and then he needs another moment to come down from those thoughts, because it isn’t about him anymore.

He’s a little surprised when he finds Tan’s lips ghosting over his own, initiating a kiss for the first time. They kiss lazily, a little sloppy as neither really has the strength to keep things neat. It’s a lot more intimate, just two boys desperate for a little more contact, a few more touches, just a little more of everything the other has to give. It’s during this kiss that Tan rolls his hips experimentally and Fang pushes him down instantly because he’s not ready, he needs more time, and Tan listens. Tan tries to break the kiss, probably to talk, but Fang isn’t having it. He chases Tan’s mouth until the boy has no choice but to keep kissing, letting Fang decide when to pull away. Fang gives himself one last moment to back out, one last chance to throw a Hail Mary and get out of the situation, but he finds himself unwanting.

“Tan.” Fang breathes, softly rubbing their noses together until Tan opens his eyes a little. 

“You’re so pretty. So beautiful. You look so good like this, sitting on my dick. Took me in so well, hm?” He’s aware he’s rambling, stalling. Tan is too, by the looks of it, but he lets him talk. Fang isn’t sure what he did to deserve this, to deserve having Tan at his beck and call, even if it’s just for one night. He hopes he’s doing well, or at least well enough. God, Tan must’ve figured out by now that he really doesn’t know what he’s doing. He hopes it doesn’t taint Tan’s experience too much.

“Are you okay?”

The words are whispered against his lips, softly, as if not to startle him. Fang nods, faintly rubbing his lips over Tan’s. He gets lost in the sensation for a little bit before remembering to answer.

“I’m good. Perfect, in fact. You feel so good.” He feels the need to emphasise that, to tell Tan that he’s amazing, that Fang never wants him to leave. “It’s just-”

And there it is again, that feeling of inadequacy. Fang knows he should say it, he knows he should communicate, but in his defence, there’s a pretty boy in his lap, sitting on his dick no less, and his mind is still hazy from the rather intense make out they had before. He can’t decide if he wants to tell Tan or-

“Do you want to stop?”

“God, no.” Fang’s answer rings before his brain catches up. Tan smirks a little. Fang considers kissing that look right off his face but he probably shouldn’t. They’re having a moment.

It’s silent. Fang watches Tan for a bit. He appears to be searching for something in Fang’s eyes, on Fang’s face, but Fang isn’t sure what and he’s even less sure of what to show in this situation. But there’s patience in Tan’s eyes. A certain air of understanding around him. He looks like he has all the time in the world to unravel Fang, to watch him process and mull over his words and Fang starts to think that maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to share some of his insecurities.

“It’s just…” He restarts the sentence he abandoned, still thinking over his words. Tan, an expert at reading the room, grants him a soft, encouraging peck.

“I’ve never done this before.” Fang whispers against Tan’s lips, almost too soft for even himself to hear. Tan grants him another peck and Fang takes a third, just because he wants it. In fact, he also wants a fourth and a fifth, and a sixth for good measure.

“You’ve done so well.” Tan answers a little sluggish, just as Fang pulls away. ‘So well,’ he repeats softly, almost like he can’t believe it himself. “Let me take care of you now.”

Fang initiates another lazy kiss. He feels the need to do something while his mind works, considering Tan’s request. He also just really, really likes kissing Tan. He can’t get enough and if he doesn’t stop soon, he might get addicted. Not that Fang would mind, he’ll just keep coming back, but he’s not sure that Tan would be on board as well. Fang pulls back after a minute or so, finally ready to speak the answer that’s been in his head the whole time.

“Okay. But I don’t think I will last long.”

“That’s okay.” Tan instantly assures him. “Just relax, baby. I’ve got you.”

Fang is still just as hard as he was minutes ago, despite everything, so Tan doesn’t need to do anything to get moving. He focuses on Tan, how he feels around his dick, and he notices that he’s less tense now, a little more adjusted. Fang gets about .1 seconds to feel glad before Tan decides that enough is enough and he’s moving, pushing himself up from Fang’s lap and Fang’s soul transcends to heaven in an instant. He’s sure he moans but he can’t hear himself anymore, only focussed on Tan, Tan, Tan-

Fang’s soul comes back down in tandem with Tan’s body, just barely reattaching itself before Tan is moving up again. He’s slow, his movements deliberate and calculated, his body rolling sinfully. Fang commits the sight to memory while he still can, while he still has the wits to do so, before he gives in completely. His eyes travel down, past Tan’s chest, over the muscles in his stomach that have been pulled taut, down to where his own dick is disappearing in Tan’s body over and over again, and he commits that sight to memory too before it drives him completely insane. Or maybe he goes insane exactly because he continues to see it, even after closing his eyes. Either way, he hangs on to his sanity by a thread when Tan starts to increase his tempo, pulling more sounds from Fang’s mouth that Fang can’t be bothered to be embarrassed about. Not when Tan’s own soft 'ah, ah, ah' aren’t lost on him, anyway.

"F-Fang,” Tan moans, his breath hitching every time he sinks down Fang’s shaft. His hands are strewn around Fang’s neck, gripping and scratching at his back, grounding Fang and leaving scratches that Fang knows he will marvel at for days to come.

“Y-you- oh- you’re so good."

Tan praises, his words slurred. He continues to increase his pace. Fang watches in awe, desperate to remember as much as he can. 

“F-feels s-so full. You- fuck, just like that, baby. You’re so h-hot, you don’t know what you do to me.”

Fang doesn’t, he really doesn’t. He wishes Tan would explain, wishes Tan would tell him in no uncertain words just how good Fang makes him feel, just what effect Fang has on him. He wants to know, wants to know if he’s doing well, wants to know if Tan is just as willing to come back as Fang is.

His gaze shifts from their meeting point to Tan’s thighs where his hands are holding on tightly. He feels betrayed by his own body, he definitely doesn’t remember grabbing on for dear life. As he shifts his hands, he realises he’s hiding something from himself. Just under his fingers, there’s another piece of his heart that has attached itself to Tan’s thigh, smeared out in a perfect circle, smoothed down like it’s been placed there with care. Like it’s there to-

“Stay.” Fang whispers. He looks up, eyes pleading, searching for Tan’s gaze. “Tell me you’ll stay.”

“For as long as you’d like.” Tan whispers back. His movements falter but he holds Fang’s gaze. In the back of his mind, Fang knows that Tan means he’ll stay tonight, tomorrow if Fang wants him to. Fang wants him to stay-

“Forever.” Fang drops his head to Tan’s shoulder in an attempt to hide the word spilling from his mouth. He doesn’t dare look up to watch Tan’s reaction, but the way Tan digs his fingers in Fang’s shoulder, he must’ve heard.

Tan starts his movements again with much more vigor this time. He gets a little sloppy, a little out of control, and he’s panting in Fang’s ear. Fang circles his arms around Tan’s waist, holding him close, their bodies sliding together. Tan’s dick gets trapped between them, smearing pre-come all over. Fang is delirious, all out of control and so, so close, he just needs a small push, a little more-

He can’t control the way his hips buck up, meeting Tan’s hips on their way down.

“Fang!”

Tan cries out and Fang growls because he’s never liked hearing his own name more. Tan pauses his movements, hovering over Fang now, giving him more than enough space to hold him tight and buck up again. Tan whimpers loudly, the sound turning into a soft sob when Fang pulls himself out until just his tip remains. The sound engraves itself into Fang’s brain and he instantly wants to hear it again and again until there’s nothing else for him to listen to.

Tan moans, his body goes soft and pliant in Fang’s arms when he bucks up a third time. He slumps forwards, head hitting Fang’s shoulder. He sobs into the crook of Fang’s neck, getting louder when Fang falls into a steady rhythm. When his shoulders start shaking in tandem with his sounds, Fang gets worried he might have taken things too far and asked too much from Tan’s body. Until Tan starts begging.

“Please, I-I’m so close, please, tell me, can I- fuck-"

Fang goes feral. There’s no controlling the speed of his hips, the way he slams himself up again and again, the moans that fall from his mouth as he chases his relief. He holds Tan steady with one arm, his other snaking between their bodies to wrap itself around Tan’s leaking dick.

“My name.” He whispers, out of breath, demanding. “Say my name.”

“Fang!” Tan instantly complies, bucking his hips into Fang’s fist a little. “Fang, please, Fang, let me come, I’m so close, please, Fang-"

Fang has to sink his teeth into Tan’s shoulder to hide the growls that Tan rips from him. His mind is swirling and he can’t think, he’s only focussed on the way Tan feels around him, so tight, so warm, so perfect. His thrusts become more erratic and he lets go of his control completely, allowing himself to finally get fully lost in pleasure.

“Just a little more, baby. You can take it, right?” He asks. Tan sobs, but he nods his head.

“You’re so good, baby.” Fang’s voice is stable, too stable for how horribly off the edge he feels. “So pretty. Such a good boy for me.”

Tan sobs, whines, whimpers all in one sound. His hips are moving, slamming down, bucking up. He’s thrashing around Fang’s dick, chasing the pleasure or moving away from it, Fang is not sure. He doesn’t care either, not when he feels so good, Tan makes him feel so good-

"Oh- Tan- fuck- My good boy, my beautiful boy. Come for me.”

He hasn’t even finished speaking when Tan comes with a loud cry, his body stilling and constricting tightly around Fang’s dick. It’s more than enough to send Fang over the edge as well. His vision turns white as pleasure rolls over him, taking over his body, and then he remembers nothing. He doesn’t know if he makes a noise, doesn’t know if he continues moving, doesn’t know if it’s him or Tan who presses their lips together sloppily. Tan nips at his bottom lip playfully, softly, successfully bringing Fang’s sanity back to him.

There’s no post-orgasmic panic or shame or regret like he’s heard his friends talk about. There’s no ‘oh shit, what did I just do’ feeling like Fang had been expecting. Instead, he kind of feels like coming home. Like this is how it was meant to be for him. Like this boy is exactly what he needs in life. He knows it can’t be, he knows in the back of his mind that Tan will only stay until the morning if he’s lucky enough, and yet… 

Fang wraps his arms around Tan tightly, with care, like he’s afraid he might break Tan if he’s too rough now. In a way, he is. He definitely doesn’t want to hurt Tan more and there’s a haze in the boy’s eyes which he feels the need to protect. When Tan speaks, it’s nothing more than a murmur, a whimper, nothing loud enough for Fang to hear. He looks down, gives Tan an encouraging peck as he brings a hand up to pet his hair. Tan hums in content.

“Stay?” Tan whispers when he finds his voice. It’s rough, his voice sounds strained, and Fang wonders if Tan screamed. He sounds like he did.

“Hmm. We need to clean up.” Fang tries, despite desperately wanting to stay like this as well. He knows he will give Tan whatever he wants, whatever he asks for. A voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s going too far, that he shouldn’t get attached, but Fang doesn’t let it ruin his mood. He doesn’t have time for rationale right now.

“Please.” Tan begs, voice nothing but breathy and desperate. Fang instantly tightens his hug, pressing a soft kiss to Tan’s temple.

“Okay. Whatever you want, pretty boy.” Fang presses another kiss to Tan’s face, not really caring where it ends up. Tan breathes heavily against his chest, his body soft and relaxed under Fang’s touch. He nips at Fang’s skin, the parts he can reach from his position on Fang’s shoulder, pressing soft kisses, licks and bites wherever he wants.

They stay like that for a while, just caressing each other, whispering soft praises and kissing lazily until Fang feels the cold of his apartment seeping into his bones. He shifts a little, attempting to find something to cover his body with, but Tan whines in protest so he stops. He can’t suppress the shudder that rips through him a minute later, goosebumps appearing all over his skin. He noses at the hair above Tan’s ear, debating speaking up, but Tan doesn’t let him.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, lifting his head from its rightful place on Fang’s shoulder. The loss of warmth there makes him shudder again.

“Hmm. Cold. Get back here.” He wraps his arms closer around Tan’s shoulders, pushing him close to him again. Tan goes willingly, his arms snaking around Fang’s body as well.

“You should’ve said something!” Tan immediately scolds him, though he makes no effort to move from his position. “I would’ve never asked to stay here.”

“You’re okay. I don’t mind.” Fang immediately reassures him. Then, he gets a little bold because there are very few things to still be ashamed of in this position. “I kind of like you like this, on my dick.”

Tan snorts, coughs, moves then remembers not to move. He flops back down on Fang’s skin, holding him a little closer, still reeling from Fang’s comment. Fang pretends he did not feel Tan’s dick twitch.

“Fuck, where did that come from, hm?” Fang shrugs his shoulders. “You’re just full of surprises.”

“Hmm. Can we please go take a bath now?”

“Oh my god, yes. Whatever you want, please. We can’t have you getting sick now, Phum will never let me hear the end of it.” Fang groans, shifting Tan slightly in his lap.

“Please, don’t speak of my brother while my dick is still inside you.”

“Oh! You’re so right, I’m so sorry!” Tan immediately moves, pushing himself off of Fang’s chest, making an effort to get up. Fang stops him by gripping his hips, keeping him nicely in place.

“Don’t worry, you get to stay. Just let me…” And he shifts his arms, grabbing Tan’s ass tightly, and then he’s standing up. He lifts both himself and Tan, getting up from the sofa with ease. Tan grants him a yelp as he pushes himself closer, hanging on to Fang’s shoulders tightly. 

“Fuck me, Fang.” Tan breathes, out of pure surprise. Fang grins a little. He makes a conscious effort to keep Tan close, close enough so his dick doesn’t slide out with every step. Tan’s body does, however, slide up and down a little with each step, simply because it’s unavoidable. Fang tries to not let it affect him. Then he feels his own cum dripping out of Tan’s body, down his legs and onto the floor. Fang tries to not let that affect him either. He finally halts in front of his bathroom door, pressing Tan into the wall next to it so he can free one hand to fumble with the doorknob. If Fang is not mistaken, Tan moans softly.

“Do you want more?” He asks, amusement seeping through his voice. Tan shakes his head.

“Not tonight, at least. But I’m getting ideas.” Fang detaches Tan from the wall, navigating his small bathroom with surprising ease given the extra body attached to him. He sits them both down on the edge of the bathtub, letting Tan lean on him as he reaches back to turn on the water.

“Fuck, Fang, can you give me your workout routine? I need those muscles in my life.” Tan complains, sitting up a little to take in more of Fang’s body. Fang flexes a little as he reaches out, his upper body twisting to reach the shower head so he can clean the bathtub. He winks when he catches Tan staring.

“There is no workout routine.” Fang admits as he plugs the drain. “It’s just like this, I can’t help it.”

“Shit, that’s so hot. No wonder Peem is so whipped for…” Tan trails off when he catches Fang’s pointed stare. Fang is suddenly overcome with the need to kiss him, to make that stupid grin on his face disappear along with the sentence on his tongue, but he’s not sure if it’s still appropriate. To distract himself, he checks the water temperature, then checks to make sure the bathtub is filling up properly. When he turns back, Tan is still showing a mischievous grin and Fang remembers that he lost his anxiety somewhere along the way, so he grabs Tan’s chin, despite his better judgement. He shouldn’t get attached.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Oh come on Fang, I literally have your cum dripping out of me as we speak. I think we’re well beyond kissing.” Fang groans a little, hoisting Tan higher into his lap so his dick can sink a little deeper. He hopes to plug Tan as much as possible, hopes to keep his cum inside him for as long as possible. Hopefully, next time Tan gets fucked like this, he’ll think of- No, Fang. Don’t get possessive. Don’t get attached.

Fang distracts himself from that train of thought by pressing his lips to Tan’s. It’s soft, calm, lazy. Tan follows him beautifully, letting him set the pace. It feels intimate, even more so than the kisses they shared earlier. Tan’s tongue laps at his mouth languidly, softly, like he’d been doing it for years. Fang responds in kind, his hands coming up to caress Tan’s waist, softly massaging his worn-out muscles.

Fang knows he should stop, he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but Tan’s mouth is addictive. Every time his mouth touches Fang, Fang gets closer and closer to dependency. If they keep this up, Fang doesn’t think he’ll be able to live without Tan’s mouth on him on a daily basis. Yet, he can’t stop himself from going back when they part, stealing Tan’s pecks, swallowing Tan’s adorable chuckles, because he’s just that sweet. Fang has always had a sweet tooth anyway, this is no different.

Fang dick doesn’t respond to their intimate kiss and neither does Tan’s. Fang knows damn well what being able to kiss without lust clouding his mind means for him, but he’s not sure he’s ready to explore that train of thought. Nor is he ready to explore what it could mean for Tan. He hopes Tan is just more trained at controlling his body, controlling his reactions, because Fang doesn’t think he will live if he convinces himself that Tan likes him back.

The bathtub is getting full. With one last peck, Fang leaves Tan’s lips alone to turn the water off. He checks the temperature again, letting Tan lean on him to check as well. Once he nods his approval, Fang shifts himself a little. He turns his body as much as he can, trying to keep Tan in his lap where he’d said he wanted to stay. He considers standing up and stepping into the water, but that may be dangerously slippery with the added weight, so he decides against it. Tan chuckles at his efforts to swing a leg over the edge of the bathtub.

“Fang, it’s okay. I’ll just get up. We can’t have you hurting yourself here.” Tan offers, his smile bright. Fang gets lost for a second.

“You said you wanted to stay.” He whines. He almost pouts but then he remembers his own personality and doesn’t.

“I know I did, and I’m very grateful that you let me stay here this long, but my legs are kind of starting to hurt. I want to stretch them.”

“Fine. But you can only get off once we’re in the water. I don’t want you making a mess on my perfectly fine bathroom floor.” Fang doesn’t care about the mess. Fang cares about having Tan in his lap for as long as possible. Tan looks like he knows this, like he’s reading Fang to filth.

“Work with me here.” Fang asks. Tan does. With their combined efforts, they transfer to the water pretty smoothly. Once Fang is comfortably seated in the bathtub, Tan begins to slowly push himself up, off Fang’s dick. Fang sighs when he feels himself pop out of Tan’s body and suddenly, he’s feeling a little colder despite the comfortably warm water around him. Tan too looks a little less content than he did earlier.

“Alright, come here.” Fang offers, holding out his arms for Tan to hug him. Tan turns himself around, slotting his body back against Fang’s. He sighs happily when Fang wraps his arms around his shoulders. Fang didn’t get the last peck he’d hoped for, so he presses his lips to Tan’s temple and relaxes back, letting his legs stretch out next to Tan’s.

They sit in silence for a good while, just enjoying the water. Fang also takes this time to enjoy Tan’s company as much as he can before the boy needs to leave and he won’t see him again. Because that’s what will happen, he reasons with himself. There’s very little chance they will see each other again when they part in the morning, unless one of them reaches out. One of them being Tan, because Fang knows it won’t be him. He might be feeling okay now, but he knows for sure that the anxiety will return the moment he closes his front door behind Tan. Maybe even before that, if he gets lucky.

Maybe that’s why he’s so addicted to Tan already, Fang muses. He hasn’t felt an ounce of anxiety ever since his lips made first contact with Tan’s. It was like all his problems dissipated under the stars in Tan’s eyes and the sun on his cheeks, brightening Fang’s night every time he smiled. He hadn’t even noticed that Tan had affected him that much and suddenly, Fang dreads the idea of ever parting. Well, he already did, but it gets worse now. Fang is doomed.

Tan eventually gets tired of holding himself up, a few inches away from Fang’s body. He lets himself fall back with a sigh, his head dropping to Fang’s chest. Fang’s arms slither away and reappear around Tan’s waist, his hands held together loosely over Tan’s belly. Fang lets his own head fall back, resting on the edge of the bathtub. Tan’s hands come up through the water to play with Fang’s fingers. Fang presses a soft, almost domestic kiss to the top of Tan’s head, then goes back to enjoying his relaxed muscles in the warm water.

“I haven’t been fucked like that in a very long time.” Tan says, opening the conversation.

“Hmm? Like what?” Fang asks lazily. Tan ignores him.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, to be honest. You were so timid earlier, I thought I was going to have to coax your real desires out of you, but you totally surpassed my expectations.”

“So you did have expectations after all.” Fang teases. He lifts his head a little but when Tan doesn’t look back, he relaxes again.

“I didn’t lie to you. Walking in, I genuinely didn’t have expectations. I mean, Phum had told me a lot about you, about your personality, but I didn’t think it would be that bad. But then you opened the door and…” Tan trails off a little. He sounds unsure of his words, unsure if he’d be able to continue without hurting Fang’s feelings and ruining their perfect moment. Fang doesn’t lift his head when he speaks this time.

“I know. It’s okay.” He murmurs.

“You were shaking, do you realise that? I felt like a wolf stepping into a rabbit’s den. I genuinely didn’t know what I could possibly do to make you feel more comfortable. I haven’t experienced anything like that before. Turns out, I didn’t have to do much, you did it all yourself.”

“You did so much!” Fang protests immediately, his voice a little louder than intended. “You’re so open and easy-going, it’s tough to feel uncomfortable around you. Plus, you gave me complete control. Handed me all the ropes, then gave me permission to pull anywhere I wanted. You did so much for me, I didn’t want your efforts to go to waste.”

“But it’s you who initiated. And it was you who said you were single, and that you were clean. I didn’t even have to ask! Believe me, Fang, when I say I really didn’t have to work hard to get you out of your shell.” Tan counters with confidence. Fang doesn’t know how to feel because yes, Tan was right, Fang had done all those things, but only because he thought that’s what Tan wanted to hear. He’d only made their interaction more efficient.

“Your lips helped.” The excuse comes out softly, murmured into the still air. Tan turns his body halfway to look at Fang as he speaks his next words. Fang holds his gaze, his head still resting on the bathtub.

“Is that why you like kissing me so much?”

Fang doesn’t answer, choosing to lean forwards instead. He closes in on Tan, holds his gaze, doesn’t give him much time to respond before pressing a kiss to Tan’s soft lips. He doesn’t expect Tan to chase after him when he pulls back but he does so to his surprise, a second chaste kiss happens.

“I thought I was kissing you a healthy amount.” Fang admits, dropping his head back down. Tan leans forwards and presses a third kiss under Fang’s chin, then turns his body back so he can lean on Fang’s chest again. Fang’s heart flutters. He pretends he doesn’t feel the piece of his heart rolling from his fingers to Tan’s.

“You know, normally I have rules when I have a session with a client.” Tan continues talking, just when Fang is starting to think the conversation is over. In an instant, he’s very alert.

“You didn’t tell me about any rules…” He relays his thoughts with hesitation because he’s afraid of misremembering and having broken all the rules Tan laid out for them.

“I know right?” Tan confirms and Fang heaves a soft sigh of relief. “It’s like all morale jumped out the window when… I don’t even know when. I guess the moment I met you. I instantly thought I should do anything to make you happy, whatever you wanted. I didn’t even remember my own rules until our first kiss and by then I was thinking far from rationally so I made the semi-conscious decision to just ignore everything.”

Fang isn’t sure what to think of that confession. The implication that he’s not one of Tan’s normal clients, that Tan thinks of him as something else, hangs strongly in the air. Fang doesn’t dare assume anything, lest he hurt himself even more when Tan finally leaves and never comes back. He untangles one hand from Tan’s, bringing it up to Tan’s cheek where the first piece of his heart is still attached. He swipes at it absentmindedly while he debates asking the question that clearly hangs between them.

“Hm? Is my face dirty?” Tan asks, turning his head a little to grant Fang a better view. Fang resists the urge to tell him he’s trying to swipe his beauty away, though he’s dying to see that dopey grin that Tan shows when Fang surprises him.

“Just a little speck that doesn’t belong there.” He murmurs instead, because it’s true. “I’ll wash it with soap later. Tell me though, what are your rules normally?”

“My first session is always free, we always meet in a public place and it’s meant solely to get to know each other, for the client to express their needs and desires and for both of us to express our hard no’s.” Tan starts. Fang chuckles immediately.

“Wow, we really went wrong from step 1, hm?” He presses his face to Tan’s hair, not quite kissing but getting close enough that Tan knows he doesn’t mind. Tan hums.

“I tried.” He agrees. Fang snorts.

“You tried. Second rule?”

“No visible marks.” Fang drops his gaze to where soft bruises are starting to bloom in the reddened expanse of Tan’s neck, down to where his teeth have left soft dents in Tan’s shoulder. Tan lifting his leg out of the water really drives the point home because there’s a handful of finger-shaped bruises forming right around the pieces of Fang’s heart there. Fang lets out a defeated sigh.

“Oops.” He whispers as he presses his lips right below Tan’s ear. He doesn’t really feel sorry, Tan looks gorgeous with his marks on him. “On the upside, you look so pretty like this.”

“So do you. I’ll find a way to explain this to my clients, though. They’re understanding, I’m sure it will be okay. If push comes to shove, I can always tell them I found a boyfriend with whom my rules don’t apply.” Fang’s brain short-circuits, looping over the word ‘boyfriend’ over and over again until Tan’s pronunciation of it is engraved in his brain. He tries not to think about why Tan would call him his boyfriend and not just an one-night stand.

“Third rule?” He asks, mainly to distract himself from his own thoughts.

“Please, no more. I don’t want to think about all the problems I will have to deal with later. Can you wash my hair?” And that is a good distraction too. 

They finish up in the bathroom after washing each other, slowly making their way to Fang’s bedroom. No more kisses happen, much to Fang’s dismay because Tan looks delectable in Fang’s sweatpants and shirt. The clothes are just that bit too big for Tan’s body and it’s adorable. Tan is adorable. Especially when they climb into Fang’s bed and Tan instantly settles in Fang’s arms, a content smile on his face. Fang pulls him close, presses a soft kiss to his forehead and barely manages to whisper ‘goodnight’ before drifting off himself.

Fang wakes in the middle of an empty bed the following morning, which isn’t weird until it is because Fang remembers falling asleep with a body in his arms. Additionally, he wakes up way too well-rested and from way too deep a sleep for him to have slept alone. He only ever feels like this on the rare occasions when Phum sleeps over, when Peem refuses his boyfriend access to his art studio and Phum comes pouting to Fang. So, Fang is missing a body. He’s missing the person who slept with him. He’s missing Tan.

Tan does not give Fang any time to start overthinking. He walks into the bedroom silently, perhaps trying not to wake Fang. He’s still wearing Fang’s clothes and he’s still nothing short of adorable, his look now complete with tousled hair and sleep still evident in his eyes. Fang drinks in the sight of him while pushing himself up in the bed. As much as he loved the sight of Tan yesterday, he thinks this picture will probably stick around in his brain for much longer. Now, whenever he feels lonely, he gets to think about the domesticity of Tan waking him up, gets to think about what he could have but doesn’t because Tan needs to leave.

Fang absolutely cannot suppress the smile spreading across his face. He’s weak for the bright smile that Tan shows him, he falls for the small wave with which Tan greets him despite having never left his side. He can’t help but wave back.

“Oh, you’re up already! Good morning.” Tan greets him happily. He crouches next to the bed, adorably dropping his head down on the edge of the mattress. Fang feels the insane need to hug him and, preferably, kiss him as well, but he’s not sure if he’s still allowed to. Yesterday he could still excuse his post-orgasmic haze. That’s not going to work anymore.

“Good morning. Can I get a hug?” He asks for what he’s most sure he will get. A hug doesn’t mean much, anyway. It’s normal to hug the people you wake up with. At least, that’s what Phum tells him when he coerces hugs from Fang in the morning. Tan complies instantly, almost jumping into Fang’s lap to wrap his arms around him. Tan holds him tightly, his head pressed into the shoulder he didn’t desecrate with marks yesterday. Fang, yet again, goes weak for the boy’s big smile. He turns his head to press a sniff-kiss to the side of Tan’s face, making Tan giggle a little.

“Do you have any rules on morning-after kisses?” Fang then asks, a little desperate. He really, really wants a kiss. Tan hums but he doesn’t leave his position just yet.

“Sure I do. ‘Never stay the night’.” Tan chuckles when Fang stops caressing his back. He moves from Fang’s grip, sitting up straight to look him in the eyes. 

“My rules don’t apply to you.” And then he’s leaning in, pressing his lips to Fang’s firmly. It’s soft, chaste, a little more than a peck and Fang thinks this must be heaven. He marvels at the homeliness of the whole situation, marvels at the ease with which Tan just gives him everything he asks for like he’s owed it. He refuses to wonder about the implications of Tan abandoning his rules around him, refuses to let himself go down a path of delusion.

Fang grants himself a second kiss, languidly moving his lips against Tan’s for as long as Tan allows him to. He doesn’t chase when Tan pulls away, instead giving way for Tan to slowly shuffle off of him.

“Why don’t you go brush your teeth, then we’ll eat and then we can decide if there’s more kissing in store for us. I made breakfast!” Tan moves away from him with ease, the sight of his swaying hips more than enough to lure Fang from his comfortable spot under the sheets. He does as Tan asked, brushing his teeth before joining Tan at the kitchen table. They eat Tan’s simple breakfast, clean up and get dressed together. Fang puts on his go-to outfit for staying in, since he’s only meeting Phum later today. Tan ends up back in yesterday’s clothes.

“Seriously, I want to know. Why do you like kissing me so much? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve been kissed this much in all my life.” Tan asks while Fang is picking up his clothes from their various places in his living room. He straightens up to answer but before he can say anything, Tan holds up his finger to silence him. “And don’t you dare lie, or we’re not kissing anymore.”

“I’m not sure. Kissing you just calms me down, I guess. I don’t know either, I haven’t experienced it before. Is that not normal?” Fang answers, like a liar, because he’s not sure how to explain that all his problems disappear as snow under the sun when their lips meet.

“To be honest, I don’t kiss much. Not with my clients, not with anyone outside of work, so I’m not sure what’s normal or not. Are you sure you don’t know why?” Tan presses, because of course he does.

“I can’t really explain it.” Fang admits. He furrows his brows. “Why? Is it a problem? Am I kissing you too much?”

“More like not enough.” 

The admission is soft, a whisper, barely audible, yet Fang picks up on it with surprising ease. He almost takes a step back physically, needing to examine those words in his head, the desperation with which they were spoken, the implications that come with such words. And then, Tan pulls on his chin and Fang goes willingly and their lips meet again.

Fang’s surprised yelp dies in his throat, completely overshadowed by the hungry growl that rips from Tan’s mouth. Fang doesn’t get the chance to swallow it because Tan’s hand is moving from his face to the back of his neck, holding him tightly in place while he nips at Fang’s mouth. Fang holds still and lets him take whatever he wants from him. The word ‘boyfriend’ sneaks its way into his brain and he lets that happen too.

For all intents and purposes, Tan devours Fang. It starts slow, with soft nicks and licks until Fang responds in kind and then suddenly, Tan is kissing him like a man starved. Like he might die if he takes it any slower. Like he’s just as obsessed with Fang’s mouth as Fang is with his. Fang pushes that thought away quickly because surely not. There’s no way.

Tan’s grip on Fang’s neck tightens and Fang’s mouth stills instantly. Tan lets out an approving hum as he continues his ministrations on Fang’s lips. He’s nipping, biting, sucking, licking to his heart’s content, occasionally pulling on Fang’s bottom lip when he feels like it. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is but as things stand, Fang is pretty turned on. He feels a little objectified in the best way possible, like he’s just Tan’s pretty little plaything to take whatever he wants from. 

Fang doesn’t even give the thought of Tan coming back for more a chance to settle. He does, however, think about how stupid he looks, two hands still on his pile of dirty clothes and none on Tan. He feels the need to change that.

"Hm, Ta-” He is cut off by Tan pulling at his bottom lip, an unhappy sound making its way to Fang’s ears. He tries again.

“T- hng- Tan- Tan, pl- please, Tan. Calm- calm down.” It honestly takes him a lot of effort but in the end, Tan does pull away, a sad look adorning his features. Fang does his best not to be too obsessed with the way Tan’s tongue sticks out a little as he pants.

“More.” Tan demands, his voice a little rough. Fang almost gives in instantly.

“Yeah, okay, you’ll get more. Just let me put my clothes away, hm?” Tan gives him nothing but a disapproving huff, a pout and a stomp with his foot. Oh gods, he’s so adorable. Fang isn’t equipped to deal with this.

“Be a good boy and wait here for me, okay? I’ll just take a minute.” Or maybe he is equipped to deal because with a simple pat to his head, Tan sits down with his arms crossed, still pouting. He’s lovely, Fang thinks. So cute. Adorable. He suppresses the word ‘mine’ that makes its way into that list.

Tan is still pouting when Fang returns from his quest to quickly get some laundry started but at least he has uncrossed his arms to scroll through Fang’s Netflix account. He decides on a show Fang has never heard of, then crosses his arms again as he looks up at Fang with pleading eyes. Fang lets the overwhelming need to kiss him wash over, yet he ignores it as he asks the - his - pouty boy if he wants something to drink. When Tan shakes his head no, Fang still goes to grab both of them a glass of water.

Tan still doesn’t stop pouting when Fang puts down his water and finally joins him on the sofa. Fang tries not to think about last night, when they were on the sofa together under totally different circumstances. He tries to forget how awkward he’d been, how anxious, and how silly all of that seems now. Apparently, Tan is thinking the same thing because he snorts randomly and then he looks at Fang and then he’s smiling again. He opens his mouth to speak but Fang knows better than to let him.

“Not a word.” He warns sternly. Tan just chuckles.

“Fine, but only because we don’t have much time left.”

“Don’t we?” Fang asks, more so because he genuinely has no idea what time it is. He hasn’t checked his phone yet.

“Well, Phum is coming over later, right? And I have to go home before my afternoon appointment, so I should probably get out of here by 11. It’s already 8:30 now.” A small pout makes its way back to Tan’s face. Fang wraps an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

“Hmm, and 2,5 hours aren't enough for you, is it?” He asks, teasingly. When Tan turns his head, his gaze is serious. He pecks Fang’s lips once.

“No, they aren't.” Tan pushes at Fang’s shoulder, pushing him down to lay on the sofa. Fang lets himself fall back willingly, then catches Tan with open arms when he follows. As opposed to all the others, Fang expects this kiss. He sees it coming from miles away. He still goes a little crazy over the way Tan slots their lips together perfectly.

The rest of their morning together is spent like this, kissing and cuddling comfortably on Fang’s sofa. They only separate on the rare occasions when either needs a drink, or to shift positions a little bit. Fang is pretty sure he’s found his heaven, right here in Tan’s arms, lips slotting together for the nth time that hour. He’s never felt more at ease. The word ‘boyfriend’ really solidifies itself in Fang’s brain and for once, he can’t be bothered to care. As it stands, Tan is his boyfriend. He won’t be anymore when he leaves, but that’s a Future Fang problem.

Future Fang curses at Past Fang the moment Tan’s alarm rings, set only because they were sure they would have forgotten the time otherwise. They were right, Fang has no idea how much time has actually passed. When Tan gets up and fixes his shirt a little, Fang can see the pieces of his heart he purposefully pressed to the small of Tan’s back, if only to know for sure that at least some piece of him will be safe. With Tan.

Tan is silent when he moves through Fang’s apartment, picking up everything that belongs to him and making sure that his bag is void of everything that doesn’t. Secretly, Fang hopes that something makes it into Tan’s bag anyway so they will have a reason to see each other again. Sadly, Tan looks like he’s making sure that that option doesn’t exist for them. Either he doesn’t want to come back, or he, much like Fang, doesn’t know what he’d do if he finds himself in front of Fang again.

They don’t share any words when Tan finally takes Fang’s hand, softly pulling him towards the front door. Fang’s mind stays behind, refusing to acknowledge the situation at all. Fang’s body trots on, following Tan’s lead. The silence is simultaneously suffocating and perfect. Fang doesn’t think he can speak right now, anyway. The lump in his throat is growing every second and if he isn’t careful, he’s pretty sure he’ll start crying.

Tan notices because of course he does. The hand that isn’t holding on to Fang’s comes up to wipe away the tears that were already forming in Fang’s eyes, threatening to roll down if Fang dares to blink. He doesn’t, he doesn’t dare let Tan leave his sight for even a second, scared that he will just disappear when Fang isn’t looking. 

He does, however, watch in slight horror as the strings of his heart reach out and wrap themselves around Tan’s wrist. They don’t pull, rather they stay still, as if waiting for Tan to pull, pull away, pull at them, pull them from Fang’s chest and suddenly, Fang can’t breathe anymore. It hurts, it hurts so much, and Tan isn’t even pulling yet.

Tears are streaming down his face now, uncontrollable and ugly. He’s pretty sure he’s whimpering, pleading, begging Tan to stay. The soft ‘I’m sorry, Fang’ that rolls from Tan’s mouth does nothing to soothe the shooting pain when he starts to move. He moves away slowly, softly, as if deliberately trying to make the least amount of movement. As if he’s aware he’s ripping Fang’s heart out.

Fang tries to grab onto Tan for dear life, tries to hold on, tries to make him stay but Tan’s hand slips from his grip and suddenly, Tan is at the door already. He opens it a little, pushing himself halfway through the door opening before turning around to face Fang one last time. It’s then that Fang notices that Tan is crying too.

“Be good, Fang. Be happy.” Fang nods before he’s even registered the words, promising Tan whatever he wants. And then, Tan waves, disappears behind the door and the door closes and Fang’s heart spills out all over the floor of his hallway. He turns around, leans against the door, slips down until he’s sitting in the remnants of his own heart, and bawls.

He shouldn't have gotten attached.