Chapter Text
Thame lingered by the threshold, his nerves buzzing more than he cared to admit as he glanced around the apartment. Po fumbled with the light switch, a little too quickly, making the room glow soft and dim. It felt almost intimate, the kind of lighting you might find in a cozy café or a lover’s room— that kind of intimate.
Thame smirked, but there was a trace of uncertainty in his voice. “Setting the mood already?”
Po shot him a look over his shoulder, but his ears turned pink at the comment. “It’s just my normal lighting.” He placed his bag on a chair and emptied its contents onto his desk. When he looked up Thame was still hovering near the entrance.
It was hard to ignore how nervous Thame looked, even if he tried to hide it. His signature soft smile had faded slightly and he was obviously struggling to figure out what to do with his hands. Po stepped forward a little, his voice dropping. “Thame. You nervous?”
Thame’s body was still but his eyes flicked to the side for just a second too long. “No.”
“Liar.” Po’s smile was more playful now. He stepped closer, closer than before, just a little too close. “It’s cute, though.” Somehow it put Po at ease to see Thame like this; confident, extroverted, beautiful Thame of MARS was nervous because of him. Or maybe because of the packet of condoms and lube tucked away in his bag. Po reached out his hand and laced his fingers with Thame’s. This time there was no reason to hide.
Their eyes met upon the touch of their hands and Thame’s smile widened again. “So this is where I’ve been dropping you off all this time, always hoping to be invited in. What changed your mind tonight?”
“What changed my mind? You suggested it! You invited yourself! You went and bought… stuff. “ Po let go of Thame’s hand and turned around to hide the blush that had instantly risen to his cheeks, but he wasn’t fast enough and Thame caught his wrist.
“I was just teasing, Po.” There was a new earnestness to his voice that Po had noticed for the first time tonight. It made his words sound like vows.
“I know. I’m glad you’re finally here.” Finally? Had he really just said finally? The thumping in Po’s chest grew louder.
“Finally?”
Thame dropped his own bag and stepped towards Po.
“Just… sit down, or we’ll watch a horror movie instead.”
Thame laughed, a little too loud, and dropped onto the couch, feeling his heart race. Finally. How many nights had Po imagined him here on the couch? He patted the space beside him. “Guess I’ll just have to hold onto you if I get scared, then.”
Po rolled his eyes, unable to hide his smile, and settled next to him, the space between them just shy of too much.
“You’re spending too much time with Jun.”
Their knees brushed—just a touch, but enough to make Thame’s breath catch. Po’s presence was solid, a quiet reassurance as he leaned back against the couch. His eyes stayed on Thame, a little too sure, a little too knowing. Thame realized in an instant how much more confident and comfortable Po seemed here. Maybe it was the certainty of Thame’s interest or the allure of privacy, but this was a different shade of Po that Thame was eager to see more of.
The movie started, but neither of them seemed to watch it. The silence stretched between them like a thread, taut and just waiting to snap. Thame’s palms were clammy, his fingers tapping nervously against his knee. Po’s gaze drifted down to Thame’s hand, and something shifted in the air. Po was calm, sure— steady —and Thame found himself fighting against the desire to pull away, to not let himself feel so exposed.
But then Po placed a hand on Thame’s thigh, fingers moving gently towards the inside, not accidental, but with purpose. Thame’s breath caught again, and his heart pounded louder, heavier this time. Po didn’t move his hand away, and Thame didn’t pull back.
And that was all it took.
***
The movie played, but Thame barely registered it. His attention kept drifting—to the space between them, to the way Po’s fingers tapped lightly against his inner thigh, to the heat pulsating and building between his legs. All he wanted to look at was Po.
Po, who had had a boyfriend. Po, who had certainly done this before. Po, who seemed so calm.
Thame swallowed. “Po.”
Po turned, his dark eyes catching the soft glow of the TV screen. “Hm?”
Thame hesitated, then forced himself to grin. “You sure you’re watching? Feels like you’re just staring at the screen.”
Po huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “And what about you?”
Thame’s heart was a drum in his chest. He wet his lips. “I’m looking at something else.”
Po blinked. His fingers stilled against Thame’s leg. The air between them thickened, stretched tight.
There was something unfamiliar in Thame’s gaze. Something that Po hadn’t seen before. There was longing and eagerness, a bit of fear and heat, but there was also…
Carefully, as if tracing the swirls of intricate scripture, Po’s hand travelled further up Thame’s thigh, until his fingers reached the source of the heat. A small gasp escaped Thame’s throat, his eyes still locked on Po’s. It was uncertainty. That was what Thame’s eyes couldn’t hide anymore.
Slowly—so slowly it made Thame’s skin tingle—Po lifted his hand from his thigh, brushing the backs of his fingers against Thame’s cheek.
“Have you done this before?” Po murmured.
Thame’s pulse roared in his ears. “Yes, but not with...”
Po exhaled softly. “Okay.”
And then he leaned in.
It wasn’t sudden. It wasn’t rushed. It was warm, hesitant but sure, the press of lips that sent sparks rushing down Thame’s spine. He barely had time to think before he was kissing back, his fingers gripping Po’s sleeve like he might disappear.
Po sighed against him, tilting his head, deepening it just a little. Thame followed Po’s lead but pushed past it, as Po attempted to pull back. A swift palm on the nape of Po’s neck made sure to keep him there, lips against lips, finally allowed to breathe and taste and move as one.
When they finally parted, Thame’s breath hitched. “Holy shit.”
Po laughed, breathless. “Good?”
Thame grinned, wide and a little dazed. “I want more.”
Po brushed a thumb over his cheek. “You’re a natural-”
Thame couldn’t wait. He leaned in again, all uncertainty lost.
He barely had time to think—only feel. The warmth of Po’s lips, the way his breath ghosted over Thame’s skin when they broke apart, only to kiss again. It was messy now, eager, Thame’s hands finally moving—one curling around the nape of Po’s neck, the other mapping every defined muscle on Po’s back and shoulders through his shirt.
Po hummed against his mouth, deep and approving, and Thame shivered. His mind was buzzing, spinning, running ahead of him. Was this okay? Was he doing this right? But then Po’s hands slid down his sides, slow and sure, tugging him closer, and nothing else seemed to matter.
Thame gasped when Po shifted to straddle him, pressing him gently into the couch cushions. The movie was long forgotten, its flickering light casting shadows across Po’s face as he hovered above Thame, his weight warm and grounding. Thame had never realized how big Po was. Outside he had the habit of purposefully fading into the background, of blending in. But here and now he had no reason to pull back any ounce of himself.
"You’re sure you want this?" Po murmured, his thumb tracing a soft line along Thame’s jaw. He was calm, steady, but his eyes were dark with something that made Thame’s stomach flip.
Thame nodded, his breath shaky. "I want this. I want you."
Po exhaled, then smiled—small, almost teasing. "Then let me take care of you."
And Thame let himself fall.