And It Started Like This

Earn The Number

I was giddy writing this story and didn't notice that I have made more or less 10 chapters already, hahaha. 😅🤣😂

Enjoy this chapter loves.

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The next morning was, to put it mildly, spectacular. It was strange; each time they had sex, it was just as thrilling, just as passionate as the first - not that Mew was complaining.

Gulf had gotten up to get dressed when they awoke, but was attacked instead by a hormone-fueled Mew, who was very confident the raven-haired kid had no intention of putting clothing on in the first place. They fucked on the bedroom dresser, then against the hallway wall, and last on the kitchen table.

Mew was very certain there was more than figurative drugs involved at this point, because he'd never come that many times in a forty-five minute span before. He was fully cooked by the time he dropped in a kitchen chair, his flaccid dick hurting with tiredness.

He wiped sweat from his brow as he watched the young band addict put on his jeans and start heating up a pan.

He inquired, "Do you enjoy eggs and toast?"

Mew was nearly crazy from exhaustion and couldn't absorb the question. "What? Oh sure, that'd be fantastic. Thanks," he said as he stood up to redress.

Gulf scrambled four eggs in a skillet and toasted some bread in the toaster. He then offered Mew a cup of coffee, which he had just slipped on over his shirt. He took the cup, leaving the shirt undone.

Gulf stated, "This should help. It's from yesterday, but it'll suffice."

Despite its age, Mew was appreciative for the hot cup, which was saying something considering Mew had a thing for fresh coffee - or fresh anything for that matter. That was a clear indication of how desperate he was for any further source of energy.

Mew sat down again, and after a few swallows, he felt his brain begin to function again. He had a look around the unit, noting the floor-to-ceiling windows and sliding glass patio doors, as well as the new floors and trendy furnishings. To be honest, it wasn't exactly what he had anticipated from Kanawut. The boy was pure grunge, and Mew was surprised his flat wasn't.

Mew began, "So, Kanawut." "These are some lovely digs you've got here; did you pay for it all with band money?"

Gulf scoffs as he looks over his shoulder from the stove. "Are you kidding? This is an underestimation of my financial capabilities; I'm saving."

The brunette's expression was skeptical. "How is that possible? The Languid Lounge isn't even..." Mew was sidetracked for a while when Gulf started massaging his own collar bone while he was scrubbing the hot pan. His dark skin grew taught over his slim tummy as his muscles flexed.

In Mew's jeans, there was a twitch. He forced himself out of his trance by shaking his head. In the face of this boy, he was not going to give in. In more ways than one, he had to stay on top. He couldn't imagine letting Kanawut see what he had done to him in the first place. Supassit is his last name. His name was to be sought after. He won't go down.

He dismissed the voice in his head telling him that Kanawut was probably already aware of the impact he had on both men and women. Mew let out a sigh of relief. "It's not even that big of a club."

Gulf snorted.

He said, his mouth wide open. As he took a spatula to serve the eggs, he briefly glanced over at Mew. "It's big enough yesterday night, you were clearly too engrossed in your drooling to notice."

Mew's veins swelled with irritability. He wasn't used to being the cocky one in the house. He wasn't sure what to make of it. "Drooling, Kanawut?"

But Gulf continued before Mew could try to redeem himself by giving him a look that informed him that he didn't buy his charade. "We play there every weekend, and it's not like it's our only gig," says the singer.