Chapter Text
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Chopper sits by the pool and watches the water lapping at the edges, cool and calm. The sun is overcast by thick clouds, but it’s a surprisingly cool day, meaning he tolerates being outside longer than he usually would. The peacefulness of his aunt’s property gives him some calm, a balance to the turmoil inside.
I want him to like me as much as I like him, echoes in his head, chasing around and around, each time cutting a little deeper into his heart.
He wasn’t built for heartbreak like this. He wasn’t built to withstand such pain.
“Chopper,” he hears somewhere behind, and turns to see Palm, dressed in his usual outfit of a garishly patterned shirt, white tank and shorts. He comes to stand by Chopper’s side. “How come you’re here?”
Chopper shrugs and turns back to the water. He likes Palm but he’s hurting too much to be pleasant right now. “My father needs to see my aunt,” he says, steepling his fingers and brooding. Palm hums in agreement, before hesitantly sitting on the lounge next to him.
“Has Ben confessed to Nueng yet?” Chopper asks, because if anyone’s going to know, it’s Palm. His eyes slide from the pool to Palm, watches as he recoils slightly, his beautiful face wrinkling up around his eyes, the downward tug of his mouth.
“I don’t know,” Palm says, casting his eyes away. Chopper snorts.
“Oh, yes you do. Your reaction tells me it happened and Nueng was… open to the idea,” he says. He feels sick at the thought of Ben kissing his cousin. Yet another slice to his heart.
“I got my hand broken,” Palm says, waving his cast. Chopper inclines his head. “I have to wear this for six weeks.”
“You’ve gotten into two bad fights already because of my dear cousin. Tell me, how many fights did you get into in Chonburi?”
Palm’s mouth purses and he looks away again, and Chopper feels pleasure, perversely so. Someone else is hurting because of Nueng. It makes him angrier that it’s somehow nobody’s fault, either, there is no one person he can direct his rage to. So he just simmers instead, no place for his emotions to explode.
“What are you doing tonight?” Chopper asks, and Palm shakes his head.
“Nothing. Nueng is studying for the rest of the week so I’m home.”
“Come out with me tonight, we’ll have dinner, go get some drinks. You can’t stay cooped up in here forever,” Chopper says.
Palm starts to demure, and find a reason to say no, when Chopper waves a hand and says the night is on him. “I want to wallow, and I need company.”
For some reason, that makes Palm smile, and he nods. “Okay, then.”
*
He picks Palm up just after eight in a car service, because he’s planning on getting black out drunk tonight to forget his woes, and has a feeling Palm wants to as well. Palm’s eyes widen at the car, and he chats nonstop all the way to the restaurant to the driver, who apparently also came from Chonburi. By the time they get out, Palm has a new friend and has made several promises to go to theirs for dinner.
“Making friends wherever you go,” Chopper says, unsure if it’s meant to be a compliment or an insult, and Palm smiles at him, wide and happy. It makes the ugliness inside of him recoil a little, as the sunshine struggles to peer through.
“I try,” he says, grinning.
Dinner is an exercise in hilarity, and Chopper finds himself laughing and joking with Palm more than he expected. Palm is funny, once he relaxes enough, and witty-- he isn’t impressed with the riches and the austerity that surrounds him, a simple boy with simple tastes, and Chopper smiles at him around the mouth of his straw, rum and Coke his companion tonight.
It’s close to two once Palm and Chopper spill out of the bar, clutching each other and laughing, Chopper’s ribs aching. They’d played pool for the last hour and a half, Palm an absolute shark, and made enough money that even Chopper was impressed. He gives it all to Palm-- what’s he need money for, anyway-- and Palm tries to push it back, but Chopper rolls his eyes and grabs the cash, shoving it into Palm’s front pocket.
The action brings them right close together, Palm’s arm already around him, and Chopper’s breath hitches as Palm’s eyes move to his mouth, watching as he licks it, wetting his lips.
“Do you…” Chopper starts, because Palm is beautiful, and he makes the darkness not seem so dark, and that’s addictive to a heartbroken person such as he. Palm hesitates, and Chopper can’t have that. He leans in instead, and kisses him, a hand coming up to hold Palm’s face, as he licks at the seam of Palm’s mouth and he opens up beautifully, for Chopper to slip his tongue in.
Palm has no finesse, has maybe kissed one other person, probably a closed mouth affair, and Chopper is okay with that-- he’ll teach him. They’ve got all night.
“Chopper,” Palm gasps after the third or fourth kiss, sloppy and wet and deep, Chopper’s fists balled in Palm’s shirt and Palm’s hand sliding down the back of Chopper’s jeans, fingers digging into the muscle, the swell of his ass. “We can’t do this here.”
He’s got a good point, Chopper muses, and spots a hotel across the road. He grabs Palm’s hand and marches over, throws enough baht on the counter that the bored girl gives them a key and then points to a bowl that makes Palm flush beet red, full of condoms and lube packets.
Chopper has no shame, and dives his hand in, grabbing a fistful and pulling Palm to the elevator. They kiss all the way up to the fifth floor, Chopper has big plans for the lube, and Palm sucks at the back of his neck, undoing his jeans and shoving his hands down the front as Chopper whines, his hands shaking from being so turned on, trying to get the door open.
They get inside and Palm shoves him on the bed, the condoms and lube flying all over it, and Palm straddles him, yanking off his shirt, breathing hard. Chopper moans-- he’s so ripped, tight muscle chording almost every inch of him. He wants to be held down.
“Fuck me,” Chopper demands. Palm nods.
He gets Chopper’s shirt off and sucks on a nipple as he helps Chopper get his pants and underwear off, his own following suit, and Chopper sits up and sucks his dick, moaning like a slut as he works on Palm’s dick with limited finesse, but all the enthusiasm. He keeps looking up at Pond, his own cock leaking precome, he’s just so goddamn pretty.
“Fuck me,” he repeats, pulling off. Palm rolls his eyes and grabs a packet of lube, smearing it on his pointer and middle finger, rubbing at Chopper’s entrance. He’s never done this before, never gone this far with anyone before, but Palm’s two fingers deep and prepping a third by the time he comes back to himself, lost in memories of half forgotten fumbles, of Ben’s face.
Palm turns him over, and grabs more lube and a condom, Chopper grabbing at his hand. “I… I’m a virgin. Aren’t you?” he says, looking over his shoulder, chest heaving. Palm looks like he’s been hit with a truck.
“Y-yeah, but… we should be safe, I mean--” Palm babbles.
Chopper turns back around, he can’t look at Palm when he says this. “I want you to come inside me, I want to feel you trickling out of me. I want you to own me, Palm.”
Palm swears up a storm, but he rips open another packet of lube and then he’s got a hand pressed in the bed next to Chopper’s head, his legs on either side of Chopper’s, and he’s pressing inside. Chopper squeezes his eyes up, because it does sting a little, but mostly he gets lost in the feel of Palm sliding home, how his body adjusts, adapts to it. His fingers clench in the bedsheets, his palms pushing down, his legs widening, as Palm lies on top of him and starts to thrust.
The noises that spill out of him are unreal, the moans and gasps and pleads, and Palm reacts to all of them, kissing his shoulders and jaw and neck, sucking bites along them, unable to control himself. It feels unbelievable. It shouldn’t be this good. But they’re drunk and hurting over those they can’t love properly, over not being able to love themselves, so Chopper makes space for Palm as best he can.
*
Chopper comes to, early the next morning, and he feels like shit. Sunlight is streaming on his face but the room is cold at least, the air conditioner humming in the background. He lifts his head, squinting, and freezes as he spots Palm next to him, lying on his back, mouth open, snoring. He can see his phone going off on the bedside table, buzzing, buzzing.
Chopper’s hangover is roaring to life with a vengeance, but Palm isn’t waking up any time soon, so Chopper reaches over and picks it up just as the calls stop.
Blinking, he rubs his eyes to clear the sleep from them, and his stomach sinks.
49 missed calls from Khun Nu
“Shit,” he mutters. He turns to wake Palm but then the fiftieth call starts. Praying to whichever deity is listening to him, knowing Nueng is going to chew him the fuck out for leading his bodyguard astray so thoroughly, Chopper takes a deep breath and answers it.
“Hello, dear cousin,” he says quietly, grabbing the top sheet and wrapping it around himself, walking outside onto the balcony, shutting the sliding door behind him. He’s hit with a wall of humidity, the sun relentless already, but he doesn’t want to wake Palm.
“Pa-- huh. Chopper?” Nuengdiao says, the anger in his voice morphing into confusion. “Why are you answering Palm’s phone?”
“Because he’s asleep. We went out last night with some of our friends from school. That’s why he hasn’t answered you.” Chopper pulls the phone back. It’s barely 7am. “Why are you calling him so early on a Saturday anyway?”
“I-- I went looking for him and I couldn’t find him. Aunty Nid said he hadn’t come home either. I didn’t want his father to worry if he asked for him.” Nueng is as seethrough as Chopper feels, and Chopper smiles, shaking his head.
“You’re such a good employer, cousin,” Chopper teases. Nueng rises to the bait.
“Friend,” he snaps back, and Chopper laughs.
“Sure. Anyway, don’t you have Ben to be thinking about now? Why is Palm any of your concern?” Chopper asks.
He hears Nueng inhale sharply. “Did… did Palm tell you?” he asks slowly.
“No, Ben did. He said he wanted to confess to you. I gave him some advice. I’m guessing he has if you react this way. Did you kiss him?”
It pains Chopper to ask, the hangover only providing a temporary balm to his emotional pain.
“Shut up,” Nueng hisses. “Wake Palm. Tell him to get home as soon as possible.” He terminates the call, and Chopper looks at it, smiling.
He goes back inside and gets back into bed, putting the phone back down on the bedside table. Palm has several love bites on his chest, and one down low on his hip. Chopper, as bad as he feels, has morning wood and wants to get fucked once more, his ass still somewhat open and with enough residue to ease the way.
He pushes the sheets back and climbs on top, pleased that Palm’s also hard, and he lines him up and sinks down on him, palms pressed on the love bites on his chest. Palm groans, his hands coming to Chopper’s hips, and his eyes open as Chopper starts to ride him, biting his lip.
“Chopper, what are you…” Palm says, his eyes rolling back into his head and his nails digging into Chopper’s hips as he rides, getting his knees more securely underneath him, the sting of Palm’s dick restretching him out, giving way quickly to the pleasure as he hits his prostate.
“I wanted to give you a good wake up call,” Chopper moans, one hand moving to his own cock, and he starts to jerk himself while he fucks down on Palm.
Palm comes not long after, his neck stretched as he gasps out Chopper’s name, emptying inside him, while Chopper spills all over his stomach and chest.
“Nueng wants you home,” he says, getting off Palm and going to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
He doesn’t want to hear it when Palm frantically cleans himself off and gets dressed, running for the door and downstairs, hailing down the nearest Grab and speeding home… so he takes his time in the shower, cleaning himself thoroughly, washing his hair and body slowly with the hotel supplied products, and by the time he’s done, has blow dried his hair and comes back into the room, the stillness that greets him doesn’t hurt quite so much.
He puts a hand down on the bed, the warmth from Palm’s body only just lingering, the sheets crumpled from their lovemaking, residue wiped off several times over, some parts crusty and streaked.
He gets dressed and makes his way downstairs, handing the keys back with a smirk, slipping his sunglasses on and calling his own car, wondering how much trouble Palm’s getting in right now, how furious Nueng is at him.
He catches himself in the mirror once he gets home, and his jaw drops a little, no idea how he missed it at the hotel.
His whole neck is littered with red marks from Palm’s mouth, up high under his jaw, down low, behind, right over his adam’s apple. Like Palm had some right to leave his mark so thoroughly on Chopper like this. Chopper goes to his room and takes his shirt off, and snaps a selfie and sends it to Palm.
Like your handiwork?
He doesn’t feel quite so bad now.