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He felt like the seedhead of a dandelion. Any little wind could break him up and into a thousand pieces of fluff. Arthit pulled back from the kiss that Kong wouldn't soon forget. It left Kongpop teetering in his seat.
Arthit pulled his legs up on the padded leather and tucked them under himself as he would at home on the sofa. He touched Kong's chest with the pads of his fingertips. "Talk to me more about babies Kongpop."
Ten days from their anniversary and Arthit and Kong shared one of the most intimate and tender nights together that they'd ever had.
Kong had followed his heart and went by his own feelings about wanting children. Arthit's thoughts were clear too.
When P' first faced the fact that he was gay, he gave up on his hope for children. He couldn't see a way past the prejudices. Having Kongpop by his side and united with him, Arthit's hope came flooding back.
This night together was like the signing of a contract between them. All their resources and energy would go toward their common goal. This love didn't have hickeys. There was no wrestling or dirty talk. Kong didn't bite or scratch Arthit's skin, not tonight, tonight he worshipped it.
...
Their matching robes were paper thin and made from silk. Arthit and Kong were ushered into their private dressing room. The beautiful young woman showed them a set of shuttered doors and told them that when they were ready... "Go through there."
Arthit yanked on the belt of his dressing gown. He was looking at Kong and how his legs went on for miles. "Kongpop! I told you I should have brought the camera. I would love a picture of you in this mini-skirt."
"Hey! It's not a skirt P'."
Kong took a step toward Arthit. He reached behind him and pulled, (not before peeking,) the back of the very short robe down. "You better watch that P'."
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