Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
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[Phîi Pakin, what’s the plan for this week’s race?]
“Run it as usual, but tell them I might not show up.”
[Will Phîi Chai be there, Khrap?]
“Hm, have him help out.”
[Then there shouldn’t be any issues.]
Pakin was on the phone with his mechanic, Payu, from the balcony, arms casually leaning on the railing. He thought about the illegal street races he regularly organized, which always got his blood pumping, the thrill rising in his chest. Knowing no law or person could touch him only fueled his hunger. Yet, that excitement turned into a small, nagging irritation settling in his heart.
The cause wasn’t far… that stubborn youth lying exhausted not far away.
Lost all interest in the racetrack.
Pakin glanced back at the open balcony door, shaking his head.
Why worry? He’ll recover soon.
Though he thought that, Pakin knew once Graph was better, a heap of issues would demand his attention.
For sure… their relationship moving forward.
“Ugh, I shouldn’t have gotten drunk,” Pakin muttered.
[What’d you say, Phîi?]
“Nothing. Stick to the plan. Any issues, tell Âi Chai.” Pakin shook his head slightly, dismissing his slip, ending the call. He held the phone loosely, head lowered, then…
“Sigh” A heavy breath escaped.
Pakin wouldn’t deny he wanted to sleep with Graph. Hell, he did—proof was lying still on the bed. But with full clarity restored, he knew he’d used alcohol as an excuse to create a mess for himself.
Graph wasn’t like the others. The youth himself was unlike anyone else.
Graph wasn’t some clubgoer Pakin picked up, not a street youth he could do whatever with, not someone he could throw money at to end things. Who was this youth? The son of his father’s friend… no, the precious son of a prominent politician, the last person he should cross.
Beyond that, Pakin had known Graph since he was waist-high.
I’m no better than some damned shit-lizard relative sleeping with their own nephew.
Pakin sighed again, pushing the thought aside.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered solutions, but first, that troublesome youth needed to recover.
Just then, a sleek sports car caught his eye—the one he’d recently given his cousin as a welcome-back-to-Thailand gift.
If “giving” meant leaving the keys in his room.
No words were needed; the close cousins understood each other. Pakin wasn’t one to spell everything out.
Now, the cousin he saw as a Nong, yet who’d helped create this mess, stepped out of the car, removed his sunglasses, and looked up, meeting Pakin’s eyes. Win pointed upward, signaling he’d come up. Pakin nodded, straightened, and turned back into the room. But…
“Ugh… sob…”
A faint, hoarse moan drew his attention, making him turn toward… the large bed.
“Hm.” The sight made Pakin grunt, striding to the bed’s edge.
Graph’s pale, sweat-drenched face, brows furrowed as if trapped in a nightmare, lips dry and bitten, slender body shifting slightly under the heavy comforter, looking tormented. Pakin sat on the bed, reaching to touch Graph’s forehead.
Swipe
His sharp eyes flicked to the clock, realizing it was time for Graph’s medicine.
“Graph, wake up, take your pills,” Pakin said, gently shaking his arm. No response, just shivers from the fever, making Pakin’s eyes glint sharper.
“Graph!” His large hand shook harder, tapping Graph’s pale cheek lightly.
“Graph, wake up already.”
“Ugh… moan…” This time, Graph’s feverish, red-rimmed eyes cracked open, but he seemed barely conscious. Pakin pulled the limp body into his arms, grabbing the pills and water from the bedside table.
He held them ready.
“Take your pills.”
Snap
Instead of obeying, Graph burrowed into Pakin’s warm embrace, clutching his shirt tightly. Hot breaths hit Pakin’s broad chest, the trembling body like a bird fallen from its nest. Pakin, distracted, didn’t hear the knock at the door.
“Graph! Open your mouth… damn it!” Pakin struggled with the stubborn youth, and Graph’s movement caused the water to spill, soaking them both. Pakin cursed in frustration.
The outburst made the newcomer ask: “What’s wrong? How’s Graph doing?”
Win hurried to the bed, pausing at the unexpected sight. Pakin, frowning, was dealing with the sick youth.
“He won’t take the pills. Hell, he won’t even wake up,” Pakin said, voice stronger, handing the glass to Win. He used both hands to prop Graph up properly, tapping his pale cheek again.
“Graph, I said wake up and take your pills.”
Pakin’s urge to shake the stubborn youth rather than gently wake him made Win pause, then… smirk wickedly.
“Like that, he won’t wake up even if you try till you’re dead.”
“Then what do I do?” Pakin was used to Graph being sick, but never like this.
How was it different? The fever, plus the soreness all over from Pakin’s sex. Normally, he might’ve been rougher, but this time, Pakin knew he caused this severity. He wasn’t cruel enough to toss Graph out just for refusing pills, which made Win smile, and…
Snap… gulp, gulp
Win tossed the pill into his own mouth, took a swig of water, and before Pakin could object…
Snap
“Ugh…” Win leaned down, quickly pressing his lips to Graph’s, gently pinching his chin to let the pill and water flow into Graph’s mouth. Graph squirmed, trying to turn away, but Win persisted, using his tongue to push the pill and water down Graph’s throat.
Snap
“Cough, cough, cough” Graph choked, spitting out the pill and water, coughing violently.
Pakin grabbed Win’s collar, yanking him back. “He’ll choke to death!” Pakin wasn’t sure if he was angrier at Win feeding Graph with his mouth or seeing Graph’s pale face turn red from choking. His fierce glare unnerved Win, who calmly picked up another pill, saying evenly:
“If you don’t want me to feed him, do it yourself. If the fever doesn’t break, he’ll need a hospital. Your choice.”
Win met Pakin’s narrowed eyes.
Their gazes locked, neither yielding, then…
Snap
Pakin lips curled coldly, grabbed a new pill, tossed it into his mouth, and fed it to Graph himself.
Win… secretly smiled.
You might not realize it, Phîi, but you’re acting possessive of that youth.
***
“Khun-chai isn’t here today. Nong Graph’s with you, right, Khrap?”
“When are Phô and Mâe back?”
“I don’t know either, Khrap. They didn’t say.”
“Don’t know, don’t know! You never know anything!”
In most people’s memories, childhood might hold images of a happy family—parents and children together. But for Kritthee, his faint childhood memories were of ever-changing nannies caring for him and an empty dining table where a young man craving love sat alone.
A young man who, when denied, would throw tantrums, act out, yet never got what he wanted.
The dining table remained empty.
His parents were always busy with work.
He lived alone amidst the wealth his parents lavished on him.
Kritthee had everything… except warmth.
The image of a young man throwing a toy at a nanny stood vividly before him, screaming for his mother but never reaching her. Graph, watching that memory, turned away. He felt cold, trembling, craving warmth, but his damned memories showed the last thing he wanted to recall.
An image saying he was just a troubled youth no one loved.
No… not even the person he wanted to love him most.
“Don’t follow me, okay? Go play somewhere else.”
Suddenly, the voice he longed to hear rang out, making Graph whip around. He saw… a tall, handsome young man, wickedly sharp even in his teens, waving off an annoying seven-year-old boy holding a handheld game.
“Come play with me,” the boy urged.
“No way. Get lost. Damn it, why do I have to come to this youth’s house?” The teen brushed him off, pulling a cigarette from his pocket to light it.
“I’ll tell.”
The teen turned sharply, eyes flashing, pausing with the cigarette.
“Tell what?”
“I’ll tell that you didn’t do what I wanted. Everyone here has to do what I want!”
Not snitching about the cigarette, but that the teen wouldn’t indulge him. The teen froze, staring fully, then laughed.
“Scared to death, huh?”
“If you’re scared, you have to do what I want. Phô said everyone has to do what I want!” Seeing defiance, young Graph shouted, acting spoiled, throwing the game at the teen’s feet. The teen’s eyes flashed, but then he burst out laughing.
“Not me.”
The words froze the little boy, hands clenching tightly. Then his best tactic kicked in… big tears streaming down his cheeks, loud wails echoing, startling the unbothered teen, who panicked, stashing the cigarette and rushing over.
“Okay, okay, stop crying, you crazy child! The whole house’ll come running!”
That made the spoiled boy… smile.
A memory others might find unremarkable, but to Graph… it meant everything. He stepped forward, wanting to touch the teen awkwardly comforting the boy, craving the warmth that saved him when he felt alone.
***
“Phîi Pakin…”
Snap
“How long are you going to keep messing up my life?” Pakin’s voice roared.
Suddenly, Graph felt his wrist yanked hard. Turning, he saw the same man, now grown, powerful beyond anyone, successful even young, with blazing eyes looking at him like… something to be thrown away.
Gone was the Phîi Pakin who comforted a seven-year-old boy.
“You’re not a youth anymore, Graph. Stop chasing me!”
“What I do is my business!” Graph shouted back, struggling to free his wrist, but it was gripped painfully. Those powerful eyes glared at him like a centipede.
“Know this: since you came into my life, everything’s gone to hell!”
Graph was speechless, strength draining, staring into eyes that didn’t reflect him at all. His body felt like it was falling into a bottomless abyss, heart torn apart, body aching to breaking.
“Enough, enough… I can’t…” Graph’s voice changed, hoarse and faint. He felt himself sinking into the bed, a tall man straddling him, words piercing his heart.
“You’re just a passing fling.”
“No… no… I don’t want this… no…”
In the darkness, Graph saw not just the devilish face above him, but his father, mother, nannies, household staff—everyone… everyone who never loved him.
Not a single person.
No one loves me. No one…
***
“…f… Graph…”
“Ugh… sob…”
“I said wake up, Graphic!”
Gasp
As if pulled from a swirling whirlpool, Graph surfaced, eyes wide, tears streaming, gasping for air like he was drowning. His breaths trembled, cold sweat soaking him, body weak and aching, barely able to move.
“Gasp, gasp… gasp…” His panting was like a long-distance runner’s, making the one who woke him lean in.
“Nightmare, huh?”
“Phîi… Pakin…”
Through tears, Graph saw Pakin’s sharp face, annoyed as always, but softer this time, tinged with… concern, or maybe Graph imagined it.
Yet, the large hand that usually pushed him away gently brushed back his sweaty hair.
“Thought it was someone else,” Pakin said. Graph wanted to laugh, but… he cried.
Phîi Pakin’s not like in the nightmare.
Phîi Pakin’s the only one I don’t want to hate me, no matter what.
Snap
Graph’s hands grabbed Pakin’s T-shirt, wanting to dive into that warmth, softening the man’s gaze.
“Why’re you crying? Where’s it hurt?” The tears made Pakin’s voice gentler, letting Graph clutch his shirt without pulling away. Knowing Graph’s pain, it’d be odd if he wasn’t hurting, but Kritthee could only say…
“I don’t know… I don’t know.”
He didn’t know where it hurt, just relieved to wake and see Phîi Pakin still there.
“Whatever. You need to eat and take your meds. I told Aunt Kaew to bring food up,” Pakin said, starting to pull away.
Snap
“Where’re you going?”
“My business.”
“I’m not letting you go.” Despite his weakness, Graph’s hoarse voice was stubborn, unlike himself. Pakin, who’d lost a day’s work and dealt with this youth who’d fainted and now mumbled in delirium, grew curious about the dream.
Probably saw me turn into a demon and tear him apart.
Pakin knew he was harsh with Graph. A nightmare about him wouldn’t be surprising.
Pause
“What’s wrong?” Graph, just waking after sleeping all day, froze, his hands dropping. Pakin asked again.
Graph didn’t just stay silent—he was utterly still, making Pakin tap his cheek lightly.
“Come on, what’s wrong? Got your senses, talk. Can speak, speak.” Pakin, who’d watched over the unconscious youth all day, was annoyed. Instead of explaining, Graph stayed silent… completely silent.
“Graph.”
Suddenly, Graph’s fever-pale face flushed slightly, clutching the bedsheet, trying to hide his face.
Not because he feared looking bad while sick, but because…
“It hurts…”
His voice was weak, his face twisted. He gripped the comforter tightly, making Pakin turn sharply, eyes narrowing.
Hurts… one word says it all.
“Where?”
Pakin didn’t know why he asked, knowing exactly where. But he’d never seen Graph like this.
The rebellious youth, turning into a puppy, burrowed into the comforter, face red.
Cute, funny, or endearing? Hell, I don’t know.
Pakin laughed inwardly, never seeing anyone so innocent about sex. The youth who usually acted tough now couldn’t, hiding in the bed, stirring a small fondness in Pakin’s hardened heart.
This youth… kinda attractive.
Graph’s shimmering, teary eyes looked like they’d cry.
“Come on, where’s it hurt? Or should I call the doctor to check?”
“No!” Graph shouted, wincing in pain, meeting Pakin’s eyes, seeing something new.
Eyes that might be mocking—or not.
Phîi Pakin knows damn well where it hurts, but he still asks.
“I don’t know, damn it! Leave me alone!” Graph shouted hoarsely, diving under the comforter. The pain racked his lower body, too sore to move, fever making him hot and cold, sweat drenching him. Who could stay composed with a cold-blooded man laughing pityingly at him?
Last night, Phîi Win got me drunk, then… what happened?
In a foggy haze, Graph vaguely recalled… hoarse moans, hot breaths, bodies rubbing together, and… his senses fading.
Can’t remember what happened after.
Knock, knock, knock
Maybe it was a mercy, stopping Graph’s thoughts, as Aunt Kaew knocked, entering with hot soup.
“Khun Graph, eat something, Khrap, so you can take your meds.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Graph mumbled, refusing to emerge, making the old woman look troubled, unlike Pakin, who smirked.
Snap
“You have to eat!” Pakin yanked off the comforter, his commanding voice making Graph’s fever-red eyes turn. Graph insisted:
“Not eating… not hungry.”
The stubborn youth said so, but Pakin ignored it, pulling the weak, dodging body to sit against the headboard. Shivering, pale, wrapped in the blanket, Graph’s hazy senses faced Pakin’s clear order.
“Eat it!”
“I’m not…”
“Eat properly, or I’ll toss you back to your father. Choose.”
Graph had no strength to resist as Aunt Kaew brought the hot soup to his lips. Though it tasted bitter, though he had no appetite, having eaten nothing since last evening, Graph leaned against Pakin’s chest, taking small sips, then more, until the bowl was empty, under Pakin’s commanding gaze.
“Keep eating.”
Eating was hard; taking pills would be harder.
“Not taking them. I’ll get better,” Graph said, voice slightly stronger after food, but Pakin ignored him. It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order. He took the water Aunt Kaew poured, straw at Graph’s face.
“I said take it.”
“I’m not taking it.”
Graph stood firm, trying to burrow under the sheets, hoping the pounding headache would vanish.
“Khun Graph, please take it, Khrap. The doctor ordered it until the course is done,” Aunt Kaew urged.
“Doctor?” Graph echoed faintly, and she nodded.
“Yes, Khrap. The doctor came this morning.”
Graph’s eyes widened, trembling harder. If the doctor checked him, he’d… know.
Snap
“I’m not taking it! I’m sleeping!” Graph shouted, humiliated that the doctor knew about last night, curling up tighter, refusing to face anyone. For someone with low patience…
Pakin signaled Aunt Kaew to stay put, his sharp eyes glinting wickedly. He grabbed the pill from the tray, tossing it into his own mouth…
Snap
“Hey, let go… ugh!” Graph, flipped over and struggling, froze as warm lips pressed against his quickly. He couldn’t believe Pakin would do this—especially in front of someone else.
“Ugh… no… mmph…” Graph whimpered, tears spilling to his chin, trying to turn away but unable to against Pakin’s iron grip on his chin. The hated pill slid down his throat, unstoppable, with his aching body, hazy mind, and fever attacking. He could only clutch Pakin’s shoulders tightly.
But his struggling and earlier innocence made Pakin… not pull away.
As Graph gasped, Pakin slid his tongue inside—not just feeding the pill, but… taking.
Taking from the defenseless youth with a hot tongue entwining his, pulling hard, feeling Graph’s weak body in his arms. Pakin drew him closer, sucking dry lips, sharp teeth nibbling lightly, tongue sweeping everywhere, the disciplinary kiss growing hotter.
“Ah… gasp… gasp…” Tears mixed with saliva at Graph’s lips, his body collapsing onto the bed from the heat within.
The sick youth panted, eyes cracking open to see… a wicked Lucifer wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Be stubborn and refuse your meds again, and I won’t just feed you in front of Aunt Kaew—I’ll call the whole house to watch,” Pakin said cruelly.
Graph had no strength to argue, to protest, or even to pull the comforter over his humiliated face. He could only stare wide-eyed at the man who’d avoided touching him for ten years but was now touching him… in a way Graph never dared imagine.
“Aunt, you can go work,” Pakin said.
“Yes, yes, I’m going, Khrap!” Aunt Kaew jumped, hurrying out, not expecting the young master to act like this.
But the most shocked was Graph himself.
Kritthee only knew that Pakin’s kiss… was sweeter than any before, beyond compare.
Pakin smirked, stepping away to grab some work, then returned to sit by the bed as before.
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