Stuck on you

chapter 9

Summary: Frong rolls his eyes and starts swaying to the beats of Raye's Please Don't Touch, gaze fixed on Thara's static stance, a contrast to the lively crowd  dancing behind him. "You are not moving though. Now you're the weird one."

He hears him mutter something but can't make out the words, the music too loud. Not that it matters since almost instantly he witnesses the most awkward and the same time cutest scene he has ever seen as Thara, trying to be as nonchalant as he can, moves his body in a hopeless attempt to follow the rhythm.

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Frong

He raises his gaze when he hear a familiar tune: dinner was over, half of the people at their table were scattered between the bar near the pool and the dance floor. For the past ten minutes Thara has been listening to the guy next to him as he talks about his business, his dad's business actually: a boring job at a car dealership. Frong tuned him out after a couple of minutes, but the doctor was too polite to even let him notice he wasn't interested at all in what he was saying. From his side though, he could see him nervously tapping his fingers on his leg, majority of the hand hidden by the curtain of the white table cloth falling over.

"I'm sorry, phi," he takes advantage of a small pause in their conversation to butt in. "Do you mind if I steal him for a bit?"

He waits long enough to receive a nod from him before taking Thara's hand: "I love this song, let's dance."

"I suck at this."

"I know," he lies because of course he has no idea but those around them might be listening in. His goal is to take a break for a few minutes so they can be themselves away from everyone. "Just one song."

Thara doesn't protest as he gets dragged away towards the dancing area. They walk through the sea of people awkwardly rocking their bodies and stop only when they are on the farthest  and less crowded side.

"I thought you wanted to dance," Thara says as he watches him standing still.

"Not particularly, I just thought we needed a break."

"Oh," is all he says looking back and realizing that is the reason why they are in the most secluded area of the whole floor. "You said you like this song."

"I do."

"But if we just stand here people are gonna start looking at us weird."

Frong rolls his eyes and starts swaying to the beats of Raye's Please Don't Touch, gaze fixed on Thara's static stance, a contrast to the lively crowd  dancing behind him. "You are not moving though. Now you're the weird one."

He hears him mutter something but can't make out the words, the music too loud. Not that it matters since almost instantly he witnesses the most awkward and the same time cutest scene he has ever seen as Thara, trying to be as nonchalant as he can, moves his body in a hopeless attempt to follow the rhythm. It is hilarious and he can't help but turn sideways and chuckle because when the perfect doctor said he sucked at dancing he really was telling the truth. He keeps discovering new sides of him, layer after layer of his persona being peeled off every time they are together. He wonders how long it would take to find out everything about him but doubts he will be given the chance to.

"Sorry about changing our script at the last minute," Thara says after leaning in and getting closer to his ear so he can be heard without him shouting. "I thought it'd be better to have one less lie to remember."

"I was surprised but we're cool," he replies. Of course, he would never see these people again but they were part of Thara's life, so he was bound to be asked again about tonight or him, and carrying a bunch of lies might have been an hazard, mixing up fake stories could result in a mess. "It actually turned out well: your version had a more realistic flavor."

"We didn't fall madly in love at first sight but the rest is kinda real."

They exchange a smile and he is about to give him a reply when one of the guests walks close behind him, probably very intoxicated. Thara reacts quickly and he pulls him one step closer while he still confused about what is happening. He turns around and sees a guy swaying as he staggers towards the bar, the content of his glass spilling all around him. Frong realizes he almost got his pristine white shirt splashed with red wine and thanks him.

From up close though Thara's gaze seems to be a lot more intense than before. He is unaware if it is because of all those cheers with champagne they made earlier, the sparkly atmosphere or the breeze filling his nostrils with Thara's cologne but he can't look away. He remembers moments before his speech weeks ago, as he stood confidently among other great names in his field, handome in his suit, the expression on his face happy and still humble. And he thinks about the night he saw him approach the restaurant: he had caught him when he was still distant and had stopped listening to whatever Duen had been talking about. Steps fast, the same smile, the handsome doctor that had caught his attention weeks before had been even more good-looking in a pair of jeans and a casual shirt. Frong had turned slightly away to not be recognized, unsuspecting that they would be sitting next to each other for the following hours, not expecting to enjoy his presence, the happy face as he greeted his cousin, his relaxed smile, hair glowing of a fire red at sunset and his skin shining bright later under the moonlight as they walked to the metro station.

Something unpredictable had happened every time Dr. Thara was involved: he had been busted, he had spilled the truth on his own and he had even given him his private number, not the one he used for work related matters only -a slip he blamed on the lack of time as he was in a hurry to get off the train.

Frong prided himself on his smart brains and being quick on the uptake, so he should have seen it coming. All of it.

Except he had been so caught up in his thoughts that it is only when he feels a soft mouth grazing against his for the first time that he realizes what is going on. It lasts one very brief moment: Thara's face moves back, lips hoovering over his, eyes boring into his, silently asking him if they can continue. For a moment he wonders if P'Arm is somewhere near, his presence having fueled Thara to initiate the kiss to prove he was definitely over him, but something tells him that's not what is happening right now. He has no control over his body as he looks down at the doctor's lips while briefly licking his own. He gets caught right away and that is the green light he needs because the distance between them decreases, his movements slow enough to give him time to step back if he wants to.

He doesn't.

He gives zero resistance and lets Thara kiss him. It is sweet at first, lips softly molding against each other, until a strong hand on his hip pulls him forward and there is no space anymore separating their bodies. He gasps, his eyes opening at the same time as Thara's for one moment before he closes them again and deepens the kiss. Frong reacts instinctively, kissing him back with the same passion, pressing himself against the doctor's body which feels unexectadily firm.

Thara doesn't give him space nor time to catch his breath, and later that night, in the quiet of his own apartment, Frong will tell himself that he was not the one holding him in place, trapping him with one hand securely fixed on the nape of Thara's neck.

A gut feeling tells him he fucked up somewhere, but he decides to ignore it and think about the consequences  later. In truth, if he had stopped for a second he would have understood exactly where he went wrong.

His first mistake: giving him his number. The second: kissing him on that dance floor while he pretended to be his boyfriend.

"Have sex with me tonight."

Thara says it breathlessly parting their lips after what seems just a blink of an eye but might have been an eternity given how swollen his mouth looks. He doesn't let go of him and Frong can feel the growing erection against his leg. Thara is gorgeous, rich and willing. And Frong really wants to see how he looks like under him. Or on him, either way works.

And that leads to his third mistake: saying yes to his request, making himself believe it is just extra money, because if anyone asked he would deny feeling anything for this specific client.