Better Than Words, Better Than Pictures (M)

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"When you get home..." Kongpob pauses and changes his voice's tone, opting for a breathy one than the sweet one he always tends to use. "...I will show you how much I miss you."

Arthit holds his breath and grips onto his phone tighter. He misses him so much too. "I'm gonna go get a cab," he mutters.

"Faster, P'Arthit. I can't wait anymore."

Arthit is very aware of what his boyfriend means, of what he needs.

"Just... just wait a bit." Arthit hangs up and brisk walks out of the building. In the process, he unknowingly ignores Earth's invitation to drive him home.

"Maybe Mr. Sun is just in a hurry," Tod tells her.





~

In the past couple of years, Arthit got used to touching a man and being touched in return. Kongpob taught him that. No, they taught each other that. But now, since Kongpob is away, he has to get used to having nothing at all again.

Until one day, Kongpob gave him a solution.

"We'll do it on FaceTime," he said.

Arthit, initially, was game with it. His self sessions couldn't satisfy himself anymore. He has accepted he needed Kongpob, and he would take him in whatever form, even though he'd just be in pixels.

But now that they are about to do it, as his boyfriend has expected, Arthit is chickening out.

"Kong... I think... I think we should do it in a phone call instead."

"What?"

"I'll just call you."

"But... but how can I see you?"

Arthit doesn't say anything for a few seconds, but utters a word he forced himself to. "Pictures."

Arthit hears Kongpob's sigh. "P'Arthit, that won't do. I need to see you... like to see you for real. We can't do that now, so we have to opt for the next best thing."

It's Arthit's turn to sigh. The next best thing is having video sex.

And he doesn't know how to do it.

He doesn't even know if he would like it, if it would feel the same.


~

"I waited so long for this," Kongpob speaks when Arthit appears on his laptop's screen.

Kongpob is now shirtless, but Arthit is still fully clothed, headphones over his ears. Both of their rooms are dark, but they can still see each other.

"So, how will we do it?" Arthit shyly asks. Maybe he agreed, but he's still thinking of the uncertainties. He's doubting if it would have the same effect on him, if really, he can feel Kongpob's touch even though he's miles away from him.

"You have to take your clothes off."

"Can't I just do it with my clothes on?"

"P'Arthit please, I want to see you..."

"But—"

"...naked," Kongpob bites his lower lip.

Arthit would lie if he would say he wasn't turned on by what Kongpob did with his lips, but fear and shyness are overcoming him right now, so he shakes his head in disagreement.

"P'Arthit..."

"No."

"But how can I see baby Arthit down there?" Kongpob puffs his cheeks and fake frowns, successfully attempting a cute face.

"Baby what?"

"You know what I mean."

"Kongpob!"

Kongpob thinks they will take the whole night if he'd wait for Arthit, so he decides to start doing it. Eventually, he knows, his boyfriend will follow.

Kongpob starts touching himself.

Arthit swallows when he realizes what his boyfriend is suddenly doing. He isn't able to say anything. He's just mesmerized by the view, by the movement of Kongpob's hand and where it goes.

He tries to fight it. He thinks of looking away, but after a few of Kongpob's strokes, Arthit gives in–his mind betrays him.

"Kong..." Arthit whines. He's now whimpering, his voice pitchy and uneven and airy. It's the sound he makes when he needs to be touched. Kongpob knows this sound. He himself is weak for this sound.

Kongpob takes the chance and looks straight at his laptop's camera. Then, he nods his head once, signaling Arthit to proceed with it.

Arthit, on the screen, takes a deep breath. Then, he slightly stands to remove his boxer shorts.

And god, Kongpob sees everything. He scoots closer to his screen. He needs to consume it. He needs to feast on it. There, Arthit is, one hand wrapped around his own.

"Fuck," Kongpob mouths on his screen, which Arthit doesn't fail to catch. With this effect of him on Kongpob, for a first-timer, it looks like he's doing a great job, so he musters all his confidence and spreads his legs wide.

When Kongpob calls his name again, he realizes he's really doing well, so he tightens his grip and makes his strokes faster. And on his screen, Kongpob catches up with his pace.

Kongpob was right. This is better than words. This is better than pictures.

They retain the activity until their arms are sore, sore that they have to use their other hands to proceed. Arthit's shirt gets lost in the process, and Kongpob can't help but feel proud of what his boyfriend has become. At the third change of hands, after a million whimpers, Kongpob taps his desk, calling Arthit's attention. "I'm ready if you are."

Arthit nods. It's just like when they were together, when Kongpob always waited for him before finishing. A few more strokes and Arthit feels himself plateauing.

It's happening.

And when it happens, they look straight at their own cameras, mimicking looking at each other, making it almost the same as they used to do before. as if their foreheads are touching, as if they inhale what the other exhales.

Arthit closes his eyes for a bit. He's feeling intoxicated, and Kongpob drowns himself at the view in front of him. When Arthit opens his eyes, he sees his boyfriend feeling himself, staring at his own stickiness. Even after everything, Kongpob still acts like the sexy motherfucker that he is, and Arthit just shakes his head.

"See? It's easy," Kongpob says.

Arthit accepts his defeat and nods. He reaches for the tissue roll at the back of his laptop and starts cleaning up. He would lie if he'd say he didn't enjoy it, but it seems something is missing.

It just isn't the same.

"P'Arthit..." his headphones sound. He looks at the screen and meets Kongpob's sincere eyes.

"P'Arthit, I love you."

And just like that, the missing thing gets filled in.

Suddenly, it's the same feeling. Suddenly, Kongpob is with him.

Arthit smiles and mutters,



"I love you, too."

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