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The rain had been a steady, drumming presence against Thomas’s windows all evening, a cozy backdrop to the low light of the living room and the soft glow of the television screen.
It was the perfect kind of night for a movie, the kind of night that felt like a warm hug, and Kong wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.
He was curled into the corner of the couch, a throw blanket tucked around his legs, trying very hard to focus on the dramatic car chase playing out on screen.
But his attention kept drifting, as it always did, to the boy sitting just a foot away.
Thomas.
His best friend.
The one person who knew him better than anyone, the one who could decipher his silences and understand the things he couldn't bring himself to say.
Thomas was all warm, easy smiles and a comforting presence that always made Kong feel safe.
He was leaning back against the armrest, one arm slung casually over the back of the couch, his fingers occasionally brushing against the blanket near Kong’s shoulder.
Each accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through Kong’s system, a secret thrill he’d been nursing for what felt like an eternity.
Tonight, though, the secret felt too big to keep.
It was pressing against his ribs, a frantic bird beating its wings against his chest, demanding to be set free.
He’d been in love with Thomas for years. It wasn't a sudden realization, but a slow, dawning awareness, like the sun rising on a landscape he’d known his whole life, suddenly seeing it in a new, breathtaking light.
He saw it in the way Thomas would save him the last slice of pizza, in the way he’d listen to Kong’s anxious ramblings without a hint of judgment, in the way his laugh could make the whole world feel brighter.
Kong knew, with a painful certainty, that Thomas didn't feel the same way.
How could he?
Thomas was… well, he was kind and effortlessly charming. He could have anyone. And Kong was just… Kong.
Quieter, awkward, perpetually stuck in his own head. He was a background character in Thomas’s life, and he was grateful for the part he got to play.
But tonight, the gratitude was soured by a desperate, aching need for more.
The movie’s credits began to roll, the upbeat score a stark contrast to the frantic rhythm of Kong’s heart. The room fell silent, save for the patter of the rain and the hum of the refrigerator.
"That was… surprisingly good," Thomas said, stretching his arms over his head with a groan. "I thought it’d be another bad action movie, but the plot was quite decent."
Kong just hummed in response, his throat too tight to form words.
He could feel Thomas’s eyes on him, a gentle, questioning gaze.
"Are you okay, Kong? You've been so quiet." There was no judgment in his tone, only concern.
Kong took a shaky breath, his fingers twisting in the soft fabric of the blanket. This was it. The precipice. He could just say he was tired, retreat into the safety of his shell, and live with the ache for another year.
Or he could jump.
"I-I have to tell you something.. but I am scared you might be mad," he whispered, the words barely audible.
Thomas sat up straighter, his full attention now on Kong. The casual ease in his posture vanished, replaced by a focused intensity.
"Don't be. You know you can tell me anything."
Kong couldn't look at him. He stared at a loose thread on the blanket, his vision blurring.
"I don't know how to say it. It's probably going to make things weird. And I really, really don't want to ruin anything."
"Hey," Thomas said softly, his voice a balm. He shifted closer, the couch dipping with his weight. "Don't worry- just talk to me."
The warmth of his proximity was both a comfort and a torment. Kong squeezed his eyes shut, the words tumbling out in a rush of breathless confession.
"I don't know when it happend.. but I started liking you. Not.. you know- as a friend. It's been more than that for a while. I fell for you."
The silence that followed was deafening. It stretched on for an eternity, each second a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over Kong.
He’d ruined it. He’d ruined everything.
He could feel the heat of shame creeping up his neck, burning his cheeks.
He braced himself for the gentle letdown, the 'I'm flattered, but…' speech.
But it never came.
Instead, he felt a hand gently cup his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. Kong’s eyes flew open in surprise, and he was met with a look he’d never seen on Thomas’s face before.
It wasn't shock or pity.
It was pure awe, his eyes wide and shining with an emotion so intense it stole Kong’s breath.
"Kong," Thomas breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "Why didn't you say so sooner?"
Before Kong could even process the words, Thomas was moving. He leaned in, and his lips were on Kong’s cheek, then his temple, then his other cheek.
It wasn't a kiss of passion, but a shower of adoration, a frantic, joyful press of lips against his skin as if he were trying to kiss a lifetime of unspoken feelings into existence.
He was muttering between kisses, "You have no idea," his voice a reverent whisper against Kong’s skin.
Kong was frozen, his mind a complete blank. This wasn't rejection. This was… this was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.
Thomas’s hands were framing his face, holding him so gently, as if he were something precious and fragile. And then, Thomas pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes.
"I've been into for years," he confessed, his voice raw with honesty. "I just thought… I thought you only saw me as a friend. I didn't want to scare you off."
And then he closed the final inch of space and kissed him.
It was nothing like the shy, gentle pecks on his cheek. This was a kiss that claimed, a kiss that consumed.
Thomas’s lips were soft but firm, moving against his with a desperate, pent-up hunger that Kong instinctively matched.
It was a senseless, breathtaking kiss, a collision of years of longing and unspoken words.
Kong, shy and overwhelmed, simply let it happen, melting into the embrace as Thomas poured every ounce of his love into it.
Thomas’s hands slid from his face into his hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head to slant their mouths together perfectly.
Kong, for the first time, didn't overthink.
He didn't second-guess.
He just felt.
He felt the warmth of Thomas’s body pressed against his, the gentle strength in his hands, the overwhelming love that poured from him, washing away every last one of Kong’s insecurities.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting together. Kong’s lips were tingling, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird finally set free.
He felt shy, utterly overwhelmed, but for the first time, it wasn't a bad feeling.
It was the sweet, dizzying shyness of being completely and utterly seen, of being loved so completely it left no room for doubt.
Thomas was still looking at him with that same adoring expression, his thumb gently stroking Kong’s kiss-swollen bottom lip. "I'm going insane," he murmured, a soft, happy smile gracing his lips.
Kong could only manage a small, shy nod, a blush blooming across his cheeks. He felt like he was floating, anchored only by Thomas’s hands on him and the steady, loving look in his eyes.
The rain was still drumming against the window, the movie credits still silently scrolling on the screen, but none of it mattered.
All that mattered was the boy in front of him, the boy who had been waiting for him all along, and the beautiful, terrifying, wonderful beginning of everything.
The air in the room crackled, thick with unspoken years of longing finally given voice. Kong was still reeling, his mind a blissful, static-filled haze. He could feel the ghost of Thomas’s lips on his own, a brand new sensation that made his entire body hum with a nervous, exhilarating energy.
Thomas’s gaze was molten, a mixture of adoration and a raw, undisguised hunger that made Kong’s breath hitch.
He slowly leaned in again, giving Kong every opportunity to pull away, but Kong was rooted to the spot, captivated.
This time, when their lips met, it was slower, deeper, a deliberate exploration. Thomas’s hand, which had been cradling his jaw, slid down his neck, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin there before coming to rest on the nape, holding him in place.
A soft sigh escaped Kong’s lips, a sound of pure surrender. It was all the encouragement Thomas needed.
He tightened his grip on Kong’s waist instead, pulling him flush against his body until there was no space left between them. Kong could feel the solid warmth of Thomas, the steady, rapid beat of his heart mirroring his own frantic rhythm.
The kiss deepened, turning from sweet and reverent to something intensely passionate. Thomas’s tongue traced the seam of Kong’s lips, a silent, pleading question.
Kong, shy and inexperienced, parted his lips on a shaky breath, letting Thomas guide him. It was a dizzying, intoxicating feeling, to give up control like this, to let Thomas lead him into this new, uncharted territory.
Thomas explored his mouth with a patient, thorough gentleness that belied the growing urgency between them, teaching Kong the rhythm, the dance, the art of a truly soul-stealing kiss.
Kong’s hands, which had been limp at his sides, came up to clutch at the front of Thomas’s shirt, his fingers twisting in the soft cotton as he tried to anchor himself in the swirling sensation. Every nerve ending was on fire, alight with a pleasure he’d only ever dared to imagine.
With a low groan that vibrated through Kong’s entire body, Thomas shifted.
His hands moved from Kong’s waist to his hips, gripping them firmly.
In one smooth, fluid motion, he lifted Kong, breaking the kiss for a mere second as he maneuvered him, pulling him directly onto his lap.
Kong gasped as he settled, straddling Thomas’s thighs. The new position was shockingly intimate, putting them at the same eye level, their bodies pressed together from chest to groin.
He could feel the hard, undeniable evidence of Thomas’s arousal pressing against him, and instead of fear, a jolt of pure, unadulterated desire shot through him.
Thomas’s hands were back on him instantly, but they weren't demanding or rough.
They were loving, almost worshipful.
They stroked up and down Kong’s thighs, his thumbs tracing the inseam of his jeans, sending shivers of pleasure straight up his spine. The touch was both grounding and electrifying, a silent promise of care amidst the rising tide of passion.
"You're so cute," Thomas murmured against his lips, his voice a husky rasp. He punctuated the words with soft, open-mouthed kisses along Kong’s jawline, down the column of his throat.
Kong tilted his head back, a silent invitation, his eyes fluttering shut. He was completely at Thomas’s mercy, and he’d never felt safer or more wanted.
Thomas’s hands slid from his thighs to his back, splaying wide and pulling him even closer, rocking their hips together in a slow, deliberate grind that drew a choked moan from Kong’s throat.
The friction was exquisite, a delicious pressure that built the coiling heat in his stomach into an inferno.
Kong, who had always been so passive, so reserved, found his body moving on instinct, rocking back against Thomas, seeking more of that intoxicating friction.
Thomas captured his mouth again, swallowing his sounds of pleasure. The kiss was no longer gentle; it was a hungry, desperate, all-consuming affair.
Kong’s shyness was melting away, burned to ash by the intensity of Thomas’s desire for him. He was no longer just letting Thomas guide him; he was an active participant, his hands tangling in Thomas’s hair, his body arching into every touch, every kiss.
The slow, deliberate rocking of their hips wasn't enough anymore.
A primal, desperate need took hold of Kong, a need for more friction, more pressure, more of Thomas.
His shyness was still there, a faint hum beneath his skin, but it was completely overshadowed by a wave of pure, unadulterated lust.
He broke the kiss, panting, and buried his face in the warm, safe crook of Thomas’s neck, hiding his burning cheeks and the overwhelming vulnerability he felt.
He began to move.
It was hesitant at first, a shy, experimental roll of his hips. But the guttural groan it ripped from Thomas’s throat was all the encouragement he needed.
Kong’s movements grew bolder, more desperate. He was grinding against him in earnest now, a frantic, needy rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his veins.
He was practically humping him, lost to the sensation, his fingers clutching desperately at Thomas’s shoulders as he sought his release.
Thomas’s hands, which had been stroking his back, slid up into his hair, his fingers gently carding through the soft strands. He held him close, letting Kong chase his pleasure, his own hips rising to meet every desperate thrust. "God, Kong," Thomas breathed, his voice a strained, reverent whisper against Kong’s ear.
Kong whimpered, the praise sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight to his groin. He could feel the coil in his stomach tightening, winding impossibly tight.
"We could… we could go to the bedroom," Thomas suggested, his voice thick with desire. "Be more comfortable."
The thought of a bed, of a soft, private space where this could continue, made Kong’s head spin. He couldn't form words, so he hummed weakly against Thomas’s neck, a soft, needy sound of assent.
The vibration of Kong’s hum against his sensitive skin made Thomas shudder violently.
With a sudden surge of strength, he wrapped his arms securely around Kong’s waist and stood, lifting him as if he weighed nothing.
Kong let out a surprised yelp, his legs instinctively wrapping around Thomas’s torso.
He pulled his face from Thomas’s neck, and for a moment, they just stared at each other.
The raw hunger in Thomas’s eyes was still there, but it was softened by a breathtaking tenderness. Kong knew his own face was a mess of flushed cheeks, swollen lips, and dazed, lust-filled eyes, but when he looked at Thomas, he saw the same adoration reflected back at him.
A shy, giddy smile spread across both their faces, a shared moment of pure, unadulterated happiness in the midst of their frantic passion.
Thomas started to walk, his steps sure and steady as he carried Kong down the short hallway to his bedroom. Kong clung to him, his heart hammering against his ribs, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation fluttering in his chest.
-
Thomas gently lowered him onto the bed, the soft mattress dipping beneath his weight. He didn't follow immediately. Instead, he stood over him for a moment, his eyes roaming over Kong’s body with a hungry, possessive gaze that made Kong’s skin tingle.
Then, he crawled onto the bed, moving with a predatory grace that was both thrilling and a little intimidating.
He settled over Kong, bracing his weight on his arms, and Kong’s breath hitched. But Thomas didn't kiss him. Instead, his head dipped down, disappearing under the hem of Kong’s t-shirt.
Kong gasped, his back arching off the bed. He felt the warm, wet press of Thomas’s lips against his stomach, just above his navel. It was unexpectedly, shockingly intimate.
Thomas’s mouth began a slow, torturous exploration of his torso, his tongue tracing the lines of his abs, his teeth scraping gently against his hipbone.
He was worshiping him with his mouth, and it was the hottest thing Kong had ever experienced.
A high, breathy whimper escaped Kong’s lips. His hands flew down, tangling in Thomas’s hair, not to push him away, but to hold him there, to silently beg for more.
He was completely undone, writhing on the bed under the ministrations of his best friend, the boy he loved, and he knew, with a certainty that shook him to his very core, that this was only the beginning.
Thomas was in no rush. The frantic, desperate energy from the couch had settled into a deep, simmering intensity, a focused determination to explore every inch of the boy writhing beneath him.
He felt like an astronomer who had just discovered a new, beautiful world, and his sole purpose was to map its every contour, to learn its every secret.
His purpose was to make Kong feel good, so good that all his shyness and insecurities would be burned away, leaving only pure, unadulterated pleasure.
He pushed Kong’s shirt higher, his lips following the path of his hands. He kissed his way up the soft plane of Kong’s stomach, feeling the muscles quiver and tense beneath his touch.
He could hear Kong’s breathing, ragged and shallow, punctuated by soft, helpless whimpers that were music to his ears. When his mouth reached Kong’s chest, he paused, his gaze flicking up to watch the younger’s face.
Kong’s eyes were squeezed shut, his lips parted, his expression one of blissful surrender.
Thomas lowered his head again, his lips finding a small, dusty nipple. He circled it with his tongue, feeling it pebble into a tight nub. Kong gasped, his back arching beautifully off the bed.
Thomas smiled against his skin, then took the sensitive bud into his mouth, sucking gently. He listened intently to the sounds Kong made- the sharp intake of breath, the soft cry, the way his whimpers pitched higher.
He lavished the same attention on its twin, his tongue flicking and teasing until Kong was a trembling mess, his hands fisting the sheets above his head.
He could spend hours like this, just learning the sounds Kong made, the way his body responded to every touch.
It was intoxicating, a power he wielded with reverence.
Finally, when he felt Kong was thoroughly overwhelmed, he began to move upward again.
He kissed a slow, deliberate path up Kong’s chest, along his collarbone, and into the hollow of his throat. He didn't stop there. He continued his ascent, his head pressing into the warm, fragrant crook of Kong’s neck, burying his face in the place he loved most.
He kissed and sucked at the sweet, sensitive skin there, intent on leaving a mark, a brand of possession that said 'you are mine'
Kong granted him the sweetest sounds, a constant stream of soft moans and sighs that fueled Thomas’s every move. He tilted his head, giving Thomas unrestricted access, a silent gesture of complete trust.
Thomas’s lips found the delicate shell of Kong’s ear. He traced the outer edge with his tongue before gently taking the lobe between his teeth and sucking on it.
Kong’s entire body jolted as if he’d been shocked. A sharp, surprised cry escaped his lips, and his hands, which had been tangled in the sheets, flew down to clutch at Thomas’s shoulders, holding on for dear life.
Thomas pulled back just enough to look at him, a triumphant, loving smile on his face. He loved that he could find a new spot, a new way to make Kong twitch and gasp. He loved that he was the one making him fall apart like this.
"I'm going to do everything," Thomas whispered, his voice a low, husky promise against Kong’s ear. "I'm going to do everything to make you feel good."
The words, spoken with such raw sincerity, were Kong’s undoing. He held onto his boyfriend, his body trembling with a need so profound it scared him.
He was completely at Thomas’s mercy, and he had never felt more safe, more cherished, or more loved in his entire life.
The intensity in Thomas’s gaze never wavered. He moved with a deliberate, unhurried grace, his focus entirely on Kong’s face, reading every flicker of emotion.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of Kong’s jeans, pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. Kong, breathless and overwhelmed, managed a weak, shaky nod.
That was all the permission Thomas needed.
He slowly, carefully, worked the denim down Kong’s hips and thighs, his touch reverent. He tossed the pants aside, his gaze sweeping over the newly exposed skin, but always returning to Kong’s eyes, making sure he was still with him, still okay.
He was unwrapping the most precious gift he’d ever been given, and he would not rush a single moment.
Then, Thomas stood.
He reached back, grabbing the hem of his own shirt and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. Kong’s breath hitched.
He’d seen Thomas shirtless before, at the pool, during summer heatwaves, but this was different. This wasn't casual. This was for him. He watched, his lips parted, as Thomas’s hands went to his own belt, the soft clink of the buckle loud in the quiet room.
He shucked his pants and boxers in one go, standing before Kong completely bare.
And for the first time all night, Kong’s shyness was eclipsed by pure, unadulterated desire. He let his eyes roam, shamelessly checking out the boy he loved.
He took in the broad set of his shoulders, the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, the powerful lines of his thighs, and the hard, proud length of his arousal, standing thick and heavy against his stomach.
Thomas noticed the blatant appreciation in Kong’s gaze, and a slow, confident smile spread across his face.
He’d been so focused on making Kong feel good, he hadn’t expected to feel so seen, so wanted in return. Kong, seeing his smile, felt a blush creep up his cheeks, but he didn't look away.
He just smiled back, a shy, genuine smile that made Thomas’s heart race.
Thomas leaned down, bracing his hands on either side of Kong’s head, and captured his lips in another deep, sweet kiss. It was a kiss of equals now, a shared acknowledgment of the desire that flowed between them, hot and electric.
When he pulled back, his eyes dropped one last time, seeking permission for the final barrier. Kong’s nod was more confident this time, a soft "yes" falling from his lips. Thomas hooked his fingers into the elastic of Kong’s underwear and slowly pulled them down.
He gulped, his throat suddenly dry. Kong was already so wet, glistening with slick, a clear, undeniable sign of his arousal. It was the most erotic thing Thomas had ever seen. Acting on pure instinct, he extended a finger, gently swiping through the wetness before bringing it to his own lips and licking it clean. The taste was sweet, and uniquely Kong.
The sight of it- Thomas tasting him, his eyes pressing shut in pleasure- almost made Kong pass out.
His head spun, a dizzying rush of lust and love so powerful it left him gasping. But there was no time to process, no time to recover from the shock, because Thomas was already moving.
He grabbed one of Kong’s legs, lifting it and hooking it over his shoulder. The new position left Kong completely exposed, vulnerable, and open to him. He felt a moment of panic, but it was instantly extinguished when he looked down and saw the look of pure, unshaken hunger on Thomas’s face.
Thomas lowered his head, and without another word, he began to eat him out.
The first swipe of his tongue against Kong’s hole was a revelation. It was a wet, hot, shocking sensation that made Kong’s entire body bow off the bed.
A strangled cry tore from his throat.
Thomas didn't stop.
He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring the tight, sensitive ring of muscle with a single-minded focus.
He alternated between broad, flat strokes that made Kong see stars and pointed, probing thrusts that had him writhing and begging.
Kong was lost.
The world narrowed to the exquisite, overwhelming pleasure centered between his legs. His hands flew to Thomas’s hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands, holding him in place.
He was making sounds he didn't know he was capable of making- high, desperate whines, breathless moans, and choked sobs of Thomas’s name. Thomas was making good on his promise.
Thomas was relentless, but he was also patient. He could feel Kong’s body trembling, his muscles taut like a bowstring, poised on the very edge of release. But he wasn't ready to let him fall yet.
This wasn't just about pleasure; it was about preparation, about worship, about making Kong so thoroughly ready for him that there would be no pain, only pure, unadulterated bliss.
He pulled back slightly, his lips and chin glistening with Kong’s slick. The sound of protest that escaped Kong’s lips was pathetic, a desperate little whimper that went straight to Thomas’s heart.
"Shhh, I've got you," Thomas murmured, pressing a soft, reassuring kiss to the inside of Kong’s trembling thigh. "Just let me take care of you."
He kept Kong’s leg draped over his shoulder, maintaining his intimate access. With his free hand, he reached down, his fingers finding the slick wetness that pooled at Kong’s entrance.
He coated his index finger thoroughly, his touch gentle and sure. Then, he brought the tip of his finger to the tight, puckered hole, circling it slowly, smearing the wetness, letting Kong get used to the new sensation.
Kong’s breath hitched, his body tensing for a moment before forcing himself to relax. He trusted Thomas. He trusted him with everything.
"Relax for me," Thomas whispered, his voice a low, hypnotic caress. "we will take our time."
As Kong let out a shaky breath, Thomas slowly, gently, pressed his finger inside. The initial breach was a tight, burning stretch, a strange fullness that made Kong gasp. Thomas stilled, giving him a moment to adjust, his thumb stroking soothingly against the back of Kong’s thigh.
"You're doing so good," Thomas praised, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell me if I should slow down, take a break or even stop, okay?"
He began to move, his finger sliding in and out in a slow, shallow rhythm.
He watched Kong’s face intently, his own expression a mask of fierce concentration and adoration.
He was learning him, learning his body, feeling the way the tight muscle slowly began to give way, to soften and welcome him. When he felt the tension ease, he curled his finger slightly, searching.
He found it.
A jolt of pure, hot pleasure shot through Kong’s body, so intense it made him cry out. His back arched sharply off the bed, his hands tightening in Thomas’s hair. "Thomas! Oh god!"
Thomas smiled, a triumphant, loving grin. He’d found the spot.
He began to rub it deliberately, his finger pressing and stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves with a maddening, perfect rhythm. Kong was a mess of incoherent moans and pleas, his hips rocking down, trying to take more, to get Thomas deeper.
When he felt Kong was ready, Thomas slowly added a second finger. The stretch was more intense this time, a fuller, more profound pressure that bordered on pain but was quickly swallowed by pleasure.
Thomas scissored his fingers gently, stretching him, preparing him, all the while continuing to massage that magic spot deep inside him. He took his sweet time, his movements methodical and loving. He was in no rush.
This moment, the act of opening Kong up, of making him ready, was just as sacred as what would come next.
He leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Kong’s stomach, his hip, anywhere he could reach. "You're doing so good," he murmured against his skin. "So tight, so.. warm. I can't wait to be inside you."
His words were like fuel to the fire. Kong was writhing on the bed, a beautiful, desperate creature lost to sensation. He felt so full, so open, so completely possessed.
Thomas added a third finger, the stretch now a deep, satisfying ache that only heightened the pleasure. He worked him open until his fingers moved with ease, until Kong was pushing back against his hand, his body begging for more.
Finally, when Kong was a panting, trembling mess, slick and open and ready, Thomas slowly withdrew his fingers. The loss made Kong whine, his body feeling suddenly empty and bereft. Thomas just smiled, leaning down to press one last, lingering kiss to his prepared entrance.
"I've got you," he promised again, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "I will be gentle."
Thomas positioned himself between Kong’s trembling thighs, his own body humming with a tightly coiled anticipation.
He looked down at the boy spread out before him, his face flushed, his lips swollen, his eyes dark with a trust that was both humbling and exhilarating.
He took himself in hand, his thick length slick and ready, and guided the head to Kong’s prepared entrance.
He didn’t push. He just rested there, a hot, heavy pressure against the sensitive muscle. Kong’s breath hitched, his body tensing instinctively.
"Look at me," Thomas commanded softly. Kong’s eyes fluttered open, locking onto his. "Just breathe. I won't move once I am in."
As Kong let out a shaky exhale, Thomas began to press forward, slowly, impossibly slowly.
The head of his cock breached the tight ring of muscle, and a sharp, burning stretch stole Kong’s breath. A long, low moan was pulled from his chest, a sound of pain and pleasure so intertwined they were indistinguishable.
His entire body twitched, his hands flying to Thomas’s biceps, his nails digging into the firm muscle.
Thomas stilled, giving him time, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding back. He watched Kong’s face, saw the flicker of discomfort slowly melt into dazed pleasure as his body adjusted to the intrusion.
"That's it," Thomas whispered, his voice strained. "You're taking me so well, Kong."
Kong told him to go on.
Thomas nodded, he pushed in further, inch by inch, sinking into Kong’s heat. It was the tightest, most perfect embrace he had ever felt.
Kong was shaking, his body trembling uncontrollably, a constant stream of soft moans and whimpers falling from his lips. The stretch was immense, a deep, overwhelming fullness that threatened to shatter him completely.
Thomas watched his every reaction.
When he was finally fully in, buried to the hilt, Thomas paused, his forehead resting against Kong’s. They were both panting, their bodies slick with sweat. He could feel Kong’s heart hammering against his own chest.
"Are you okay?" Thomas managed to asj.
Kong could only nod, his throat too tight to speak. He felt so full, so complete, so utterly out of it.
After a moment, Thomas shifted.
He carefully withdrew, almost all the way out, before sliding back in just as slowly.
The drag of his cock against Kong’s sensitive walls sent a fresh wave of pleasure crashing through him. Kong’s body arched, a cry of pure ecstasy tearing from his throat.
Thomas did it again, and again, setting a slow, torturous rhythm. But then, he stopped, pulling out completely. Kong whined at the sudden loss, his body feeling cold and empty.
"What are you doing?" Kong asked, his voice a breathy, confused plea.
Thomas didn't answer with words. He moved, laying down on his side beside Kong before gently pulling him back against his chest.
He maneuvered Kong’s top leg, bending it at the knee and hooking it over his own hip, opening him up once more. In this new position, Kong’s back was flush against Thomas’s chest, his entire body cradled and supported by the boy he loved.
Thomas guided himself back to Kong’s entrance and slid in in one smooth, deep stroke.
The new angle was devastating. Kong cried out, his head falling back against Thomas’s shoulder as the pleasure hit him with the force of a tidal wave.
Thomas held him tight, one arm wrapped securely around his chest, the other holding his hip. He began to move again, his thrusts slow and deep at first, grinding into him, hitting that spot inside him with unerring accuracy.
His mouth was a constant presence on Kong’s skin, kissing and sucking the sensitive skin of his shoulder, the side of his neck, the delicate shell of his ear.
"You feel so good," Thomas growled in his ear, his voice a low, possessive rumble. "So good around me. Ah-."
His words, combined with the relentless stimulation, were too much.
Kong felt the coil in his stomach snap, and his first orgasm ripped through him without warning. He cried out, his body convulsing, his release spilling over his stomach and Thomas’s hand.
But Thomas didn't stop.
He just held him through it, his thrusts never ceasing, his mouth never leaving his skin. As the waves of pleasure subsided, they began to build again, impossibly fast.
Thomas’s pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, more demanding as he felt Kong’s body stretch and accommodate him completely.
The second orgasm was even more intense than the first. Kong was sobbing now, overwhelmed by the sheer force of his pleasure, his body twitching and shaking uncontrollably in Thomas’s arms.
Thomas was touching him everywhere, his hands roaming over his chest, his stomach, his thighs, stoking the fire higher and higher.
He lost count after the third time. His mind went blank, his body a pliant, trembling instrument in Thomas’s hands, played with a masterful skill that brought him to the peak again and again.
He was a mess of tears and sweat and cum, completely and utterly wrecked, lost in a haze of endless, blissful pleasure, held safe and loved in the arms of the boy who was finally, truly, his.
Thomas was still buried deep inside him, his own release a tightening knot in his groin, but he held back, savoring the feeling of Kong’s body still trembling from his last, shattering orgasm.
He was peppering the back of Kong’s neck with soft, lazy kisses, his hands stroking soothingly over his sweat-slicked skin when he felt Kong shift against him.
A soft, muffled voice, thick with pleasure and exhaustion, whispered, "God.. Thomas..."
"Yes babe- do you want to stop?" Thomas murmured, his voice a low rumble against Kong's ear.
"No- Let me... let me suck you off."
The words, so unexpected and so filthy coming from his quiet, sweet Kong, made Thomas’s entire body shudder.
He froze, his hips stilling. He pulled back slightly, looking down at Kong, who was still lying with his back to him, his face half-buried in the pillow.
"Are you sure?" Thomas asked, his voice strained with disbelief and a sudden, surge of arousal. "Wait, are you sure? You don't have to..."
"Please," Kong whimpered, turning his head just enough to look at him over his shoulder. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, lost in a post-orgasmic haze, but the plea in them was unmistakable. "I want to. I want to taste you."
Thomas felt his last thread of control snap. He slowly, carefully, withdrew from Kong's heat, both of them groaning at the loss.
He moved to lie on his back, his cock standing hard and flushed against his stomach, glistening with their combined slick.
Kong took a moment to compose himself, his body still trembling, before he clumsily turned over and crawled between Thomas’s legs. He looked so beautiful like this- his hair a mess, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen and red, his eyes dark with a hunger that was both innocent and predatory.
He looked down at Thomas’s length, his expression one of pure, unadulterated want.
He leaned down, and instead of taking him into his mouth right away, he stuck out his tongue and gave the head a slow, experimental lick.
Thomas’s breath hitched, his hand flying to Kong’s hair, his fingers gently tangling in the soft strands.
He couldn't look away.
He was mesmerized.
Kong seemed to gain confidence from his reaction. He began to lick him properly, his tongue tracing the vein on the underside, swirling around the sensitive head, lapping at the bead of pre-come that gathered there.
He looked so cute, so earnest, his brow furrowed in concentration as he explored Thomas with his tongue.
And then, he took him into his mouth.
The wet, warm heat of Kong’s lips wrapping around him was heaven. Thomas let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillows. He kept his eyes open, though, forcing himself to watch as Kong began to move, his lips sliding down his shaft.
What happened next shocked him to his core.
Kong, his shy, sweet Kong, took a deep breath and swallowed him whole.
He took Thomas’s entire length into his throat, his nose pressing against the coarse hair at the base, and he moaned.
The vibration traveled straight up Thomas’s spine, and he cried out, his hips bucking involuntarily.
Kong didn't gag.
He just held him there for a moment before pulling back, only to do it again, and again.
He was deep-throating him with an effortless hunger, a desperate, eager need that was staggering.
He was moaning around Thomas’s cock, the sounds muffled but unmistakable, and it was clear that he was getting off on this, that blowing Thomas was turning him on just as much as it was turning Thomas himself on.
Thomas was moaning shamelessly now, all restraint gone. He watched, completely captivated, as his cute, innocent-looking boyfriend ate him like he was a buffet.
There was nothing shy about the way Kong’s head bobbed, the way his tongue worked, the way his hollowed cheeks created a suction that made Thomas’s toes curl.
He was a natural, a prodigy, and the sight of him, so lost in the act of pleasuring him, was the single most erotic thing Thomas had ever seen.
"Kong... god, Kong," Thomas panted, his grip tightening in Kong’s hair, not to guide him, but just to hold on. "Your mouth... fuck, your mouth is so good. You're so good, babe, so fucking good."
Kong just hummed in response, a pleased, possessive sound, and doubled his efforts, taking Thomas deeper, faster, his hand coming up to cup and squeeze his balls.
Thomas could feel his own release building, a tidal wave gathering at the base of his spine, and he knew, with absolute certainty, that he was completely and utterly at Kong’s mercy.
The pleasure was a white-hot inferno, building to an unbearable peak at the base of Thomas’s spine. He could feel his control fraying, his body tightening as his release hurtled towards him.
Kong’s mouth was a perfect, wet heat, his tongue a masterful instrument of torture and delight. He was driving him insane.
"Kong," Thomas gasped, his voice tight and strained. "Kong, wait... I'm close. You have to pull back-."
He expected Kong to pull away, to finish him with his hand.
It was the polite thing to do, the expected thing. But Kong did the exact opposite.
Instead of stopping, Kong moaned.
It was a deep, guttural sound of pure, unadulterated want, a vibration that shot straight through Thomas’s cock and shattered what was left of his restraint.
Kong sucked him off even more fervently, his head bobbing faster, his hand coming up to gently squeeze and massage his balls, just the way he liked it.
The sheer, unashamed hunger in his actions was Thomas’s undoing.
"Fuck! Kong, I'm-" The warning was cut off by a strangled cry as his orgasm slammed into him with the force of a freight train. He came hard, his body arching off the bed, his release pulsing into Kong’s willing mouth.
Through the haze of his own blinding pleasure, Thomas forced his eyes open. He looked down and saw Kong looking right back at him, his dark eyes gazing up through his thick lashes, his lips still stretched around Thomas’s cock as he swallowed every last drop.
The sight was so intensely erotic, so shockingly intimate, that Thomas felt a second, weaker orgasm ripple through him, a full-body shudder of pure ecstasy.
Kong pulled off slowly, his lips making a soft, wet sound as he released Thomas.
He looked utterly wrecked and beautifully debauched. He swallowed one last time, then raised the back of his hand to his mouth, wiping away a stray drop of semen from his swollen lips.
Thomas just stared, his chest heaving, his mind completely blank. He had just witnessed the single most hottest thing in his entire life, and he felt like he could come again just from the memory of it.
The room was quiet, save for their ragged breathing slowly evening out.
Thomas felt boneless, utterly spent, but as he looked at Kong, who was still kneeling between his legs, a new wave of energy washed over him- a fierce, protective instinct to care for the boy who had just given him everything.
He reached down, his hands gentle as he guided Kong to lie beside him.
Kong collapsed onto the bed with a soft, contented sigh, his body pliant and loose. Thomas immediately pulled him into his arms, tucking him against his chest.
He tilted Kong’s chin up and captured his lips in a kiss. It was slow and deep, a kiss of gratitude and profound affection.
He poured all his unspoken feelings into it, his tongue gently stroking against Kong’s, tasting himself there, a possessive, intimate reminder of what they had just shared.
He pulled back, only to lean in again, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, then his cheek, then his forehead. He showered him with kisses, his hands stroking up and down his back, feeling the steady, calming rhythm of his breathing.
"Thank you for confessing," Thomas whispered against his temple. "This is all I ever wanted."
Kong just hummed, nuzzling deeper into Thomas's neck, his arm draped over his chest. "So are you," he mumbled, his voice sleepy and sated.
They lay in comfortable silence for a long time, just holding each other, their bodies tangled together. Thomas’s hand moved in slow, lazy circles on Kong’s lower back.
"Was it... okay?" Thomas asked softly, a flicker of his earlier concern returning. "I hope I was gentle enough.. and the last part.. I was worried-"
Kong pulled back just enough to look at him, a shy, sly smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to," he said, his cheeks flushing a pretty pink. "I liked it. I really, really liked it."
Thomas felt his heart swell. "God, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned, pulling him in for another kiss, this one deeper, more possessive. "I've never... no one's ever... you were so good at that."
Thomas was rarely awkward with his own words but now he was stumbling over them as he looked at his pretty boyfriend.
"I've been practicing," Kong admitted in a small voice, his blush deepening.
Thomas stared at him, a mixture of shock and awe on his face. "What? Practicing?"
"On... on things," Kong mumbled, hiding his face again. "I wanted to be good at it. If we ever... you know."
The sheer, overwhelming sweetness of it, the thought of shy Kong secretly preparing for this moment, for him, made Thomas freeze. It was both sweet and utterly filthy.
He held him tighter, pressing a hard kiss to his hair.
After another moment, Thomas gently disentangled himself. "Stay here," he murmured, swinging his legs off the bed.
He walked into the adjoining bathroom and returned with a warm, damp washcloth. Kong watched him, his eyes soft and heavy-lidded. "You are so sweet." Kong's voice was thick with exhaustion.
Thomas knelt on the bed beside him, his expression tender. He gently took Kong's hand, wiping it clean first, before moving to his stomach, carefully cleaning away the evidence of his own pleasure.
He was gentle, his movements methodical and sweet. It was an act of service, of care, that was more intimate than anything they had just done. He wiped down Kong's thighs, his touch reverent.
This was the Thomas he knew, the caring, attentive best friend who always looked after him. But now, as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to Kong's hipbone after cleaning him, it was different.
It wasn't just friendly care.
It was a boyfriend thing.
It was the kind of sweet, intimate aftercare that spoke of a future, of countless nights just like this one.
He tossed the cloth aside and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers over them both. He gathered Kong into his arms, settling him against his chest, their legs tangled together.
"Get some sleep," Thomas whispered, kissing the top of his head. "I've got you."