And It Started Like This

Last Straw

A/N: Still... I wonder why? I feel emptier now than those days when I have nothing.

Oh my drama. Hahaha.

Enjoy this chapter

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"Suppasit, you're out of line. I was just dancing—"

As he violently threw Gulf against the cold brick wall, the brunette growled, "Shut up, Kanawut," eliciting a sense of déjà vu. With his lips, he covered Gulf's screams of agony, and with a furious and possessive kiss, he pounced on the brunette's. His other hand rushed to the fly of Gulf's jeans as he pushed a powerful hand to the boy's chest, holding him against the wall.

Gulf spewed against Mew's abrasive lips, "Mew, what—"

"Can it be done, Kanawut," he replied, yanking Gulf's pants down and frantically attempting to catch his own fly. He instructed, referring to the trousers that were now around the brunet's ankles, "Kick them off." When Gulf complied without saying a word, he was startled.

Mew padded at his pants pockets, muttering under his breath, as he removed his own erection from his pants, exposing it to the night's chill. "I don't have— Shit."

Mew looked up to see Gulf holding a shiny bundle that crinkled between his fingers as he cleared his throat. With the condom out of his own pockets, he was just about to toss his shoes and pants away. Mew pressed into him again as soon as his feet were free, securing both of Gulf's legs around his hips with a firm hold on his muscular thighs.

When Gulf landed against the wall, his t-shirt lifted slightly, exposing the abrasive stone's skin on his lower back, creating wounds in his flesh. All else was forgotten when Mew's hands dropped from his hips to his bare waist, clutching his sides in a painful grip. The contact of his warm, hot palms on Gulf's skin pushed all of his other senses into overdrive, but Mew's fingers were rough and harmful. Having Mew touch him was like being hit with a heart monitor, electricity thrumming through him and combusting every nerve, every tendon, every follicle on his squirming body—as though before this, everything he'd ever felt had been nothing but a portion of what he was capable of feeling, of what he was feeling now.

Gulf watched as Mew gathered cum from his throbbing cock—throbbing enormous cock... blimey, had he ever taken the time to realize exactly how hung Mew was before he throwing his hat to the ground? When the man was fucking his brains out, it was no surprise that he saw stars—Gulf was amazed Mew hadn't ripped him in half by now. With Mew's unbelievably long, thick prick within him, slamming at his hole like he was trying to nail him to the wall... or dresser, or couch, or floor... the agony only made it all the more wonderful, all the more mind-numbingly fantastic... he'd never felt anything less than sensual pleasure.

Mew was on a frenzy. His veins were burning with rage, his thoughts were scalding, and his vision was blurred. He was unable to think clearly. Despite the musician's persistent prodding, he had to retake Gulf, recapture him, and make Gulf his own. The brunet slammed his head back against the wall, with Mew's finger thrusting within, while he massaged two wet fingers over Gulf's hole from beneath heavy lids. Mew pressed his lips to Gulf's neck as he prepared him, remembering himself not to rush it but hoping badly that he could do it sooner rather than later.

Arousal had become exceedingly painful for him, and his erection was still in full flow. If it was the envy or the fact that Gulf appeared to do these things to him, he felt like he hadn't sex in months, it was hard to tell. She looked at him and said, "I'm going to kill you!" Mew, on the other hand, felt an odd, relaxing wave flow over him as Gulf kissed him passionately. The tenderness of his kiss, the sweetness of his tongue, reminded him of the night he'd first brought Gulf back to his flat and begged him to stay. And now, with Mew's overwhelming need, urgent need, and angry lust, Gulf had decided to strike back with a loving, meaningful response.