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Rome had returned just a day or two ago, and since then, Mok had been by his side every minute, every second, desperately trying to gather himself after the overwhelming urge to reach out and hold him close. In those moments, it felt as if Rome was the center of his universe, the very axis around which his life spun.
As Mok watched Rome, he noticed how he sat there, seemingly calm, yet deep in thought, surveying everything with an intensity that suggested he was plotting something intricate, weaving together strands of mischief and charm. The memory of their reunion played vividly in Mok’s mind, as clear as if it had just happened. He recalled the moment Rome stepped out of the car; the way his eyes lit up upon seeing Mok sent a rush of warmth through him.
Rome's first words rang in Mok's ears: “I missed you.” These words were simple, but they were full of honesty and longing. They hung in the air between them, holding a depth that Mok could barely understand.
Mok clearly remembered how Rome tilted his head and spoke softly, making his words feel special. Rome had a relaxed posture that captured the idea of a 'soft mafia boy.', his soft mafia boy. This look showed both vulnerability and danger, which made Mok's heart race. The way Rome carried himself gave Mok chills and sparked intense, forbidden thoughts that he found hard to control. Every detail from that moment—the playful glint in Rome’s eyes and the gentle curve of his lips—stayed in Mok's mind, becoming the source of his restless thoughts and unspoken feelings.
Mok spent the entire night outside his room. He wanted nothing more than to step inside and check on his boy, but his duty came first. He was on a call with Khun Thee when he suddenly heard a loud groan coming from Rome’s room. In an instant, he forgot he was still on the call with his boss, rushed into the room, and quickly ended the call. As soon as he stepped in, he saw Rome groaning in his sleep, his sheets hanging low. Mok's smile softened as he looked at him.
He stepped forward and gently pulled the hanging sheets higher, careful not to wake him fully. Mok’s movements were practiced, almost tender, tucking the fabric around Rome’s shoulders, smoothing it down so he’d be warm, so he’d be comfortable.
The moment the sheets settled, Rome’s hand shot out.
Mok barely had time to react before Rome grabbed him by the wrist and twisted, using the leverage to roll them both. In a blink, Mok found himself pressed down against the mattress, Rome hovering over him, eyes half-lidded with sleep and a very awake, infuriating smirk, just like the image burned into Mok’s memory.
“Rome—” Mok snapped.
Rome didn’t get to enjoy it for long.
Mok twisted sharply, using his weight and strength to flip them again. The mattress dipped as Rome hit it, and Mok was already on his feet, breathing hard, eyes dark with warning.
Rome laughed softly and reached out, fingers closing around Mok’s arm, deliberately slow, deliberately teasing. He looked up at him, chin tilted, smirk firmly in place,being a brat on purpose.
Mok grabbed him.
He yanked Rome upright, spun him around, and forced his hands behind his back in one smooth motion, cuffing his wrists there with a grip that left no room for misunderstanding.
“Keep your distance,” Mok said quietly, voice low and dangerous.
Rome leaned his head slightly to the side, his smile turning sly.
“How far do you want?”
“A normal distance,” Mok replied instantly, jaw tight. “Just like between a boss and an employee.”
Rome hummed. “That’s so cold of you.”
Mok’s grip tightened just a fraction.
“Please don’t do that again, khun. Kridanai,” he said through clenched teeth. “You know I don’t like it.”
Rome’s smile widened.
“But I like it.”
Mok squeezed Rome’s arms a little harder.
Rome let out a small yelp—sharp, breathy—more surprised than hurt. If anything, the sound only seemed to amuse him. He shifted back slightly, his shoulder brushing Mok’s chest, then leaned fully against him, head tipping back until it rested near Mok’s shoulder.
“Your heart’s racing,” Rome murmured, teasing, voice lazy with satisfaction.
Mok’s face flushed instantly.
Without another word, he shoved Rome forward. Rome stumbled and fell back onto the bed, sheets tangling around him again as the mattress bounced under his weight.
Mok turned on his heel and walked out, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary, leaving Rome sprawled on the bed, smiling to himself.
As the hours dragged on, Rome never once stopped looking at him.
It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t fleeting. It was a slow, deliberate gaze that followed Mok everywhere he went, sharp, amused, burning straight through whatever composure Mok tried to keep intact. Mok could feel it on his skin like heat, like a hand pressed too close without touching.
Rome made sure of it.
He teased Mok without stopping, knowing how to get on his nerves. Sometimes, he would lean in close—too close—so that his mouth almost touched Mok’s ear, making him shiver when he breathed softly. That warm breath felt like an electric shock, distracting Mok just as he was trying to focus. Other times, he used playful tricks, like a light touch on Mok’s shoulder or a mischievous smirk, leaving Mok flustered as he tried to regain his composure. Each time they interacted felt like a game, and he enjoyed every moment, skillfully mixing charm with annoyance.
He sat comfortably on the worn sofa, holding a well-loved book. His posture was relaxed, leaning just enough to show he was focused on the pages. However, Mok noticed something else. The lamp's soft glow lit the room, casting gentle shadows on the walls. In the glass cabinet across from him, the truth was clear: although his eyes seemed fixed on the book, they occasionally darted around, revealing that his mind was wandering far from the story.
Rome wasn’t reading a single word.
Mok stood nearby, arms folded, jaw tight, pretending very hard that none of it affected him.
Then he sneezed.
Rome’s head snapped up immediately.
“Someone missing you?” he asked lightly.
“It’s dust,” Mok replied without hesitation.
Rome smiled.
A moment later, he rose from one end of the sofa and moved—unhurried, confident—to the spot right beside where Mok stood. He sat down, crossing one leg over the other, a wine glass already in his hand. He swirled it slowly, watching the liquid cling to the sides before taking a measured sip.
“Maybe you’re right,” Rome said softly. “I’m still not missing you.”
Mok’s heart skipped, sharp and traitorous.
Rome turned and held the glass out toward him. Mok hesitated, then reached for it. Their fingers brushed; it was barely a touch, but it sent a jolt straight through him, the air between them tightening, thick with something unsaid.
Mok took a sip, eyes fixed forward.
Rome didn’t look away.
He watched Mok like he was something indulgent, something he meant to take his time with, eyes dark, intent, almost hungry. Like if Mok stayed still for even a second too long, Rome really might devour him whole.
Mok swallowed, hand lowering with the glass, painfully aware of how close Rome was… and how much harder it was becoming to pretend he didn’t notice.
As night settled quietly over the house, the lamps dimmed, the world narrowing to the soft hush of voices in Rome’s room.
Mok stood near the wall while Rome sat on the bed, his mother speaking gently, reminding him to rest, to behave, to not overdo things. When she turned to Mok, her gaze was firm but trusting.
“Take care of him,” she said.
Mok nodded immediately. “Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled once, satisfied, and left the room, the door closing softly behind her.
The silence that followed was… dangerous.
Rome lay on the soft pillow, his head tilted slightly to one side, eyes shimmering with a mixture of hope and warmth. “Please don’t go,” he said in a playful tone, the corners of his mouth lifting into a gentle smile. “Stay with me until I drift off.”
Mok paused for a heartbeat, his mind racing with thoughts, before taking a step closer to the bed. He stood tall beside it, shoulders squared and expression carefully arranged into an unreadable mask as he gazed down at Rome, absorbing the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Rome grinned.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said, voice soft and playful. “You’ll scare me.”
Mok didn’t react.
Rome shifted under the sheets, deliberately slow, his gaze never leaving Mok’s face. “You know,” he continued, “you’re much nicer at night. Less… professional.”
“Sleep, Rome,” Mok warned quietly.
Rome hummed, clearly pleased. “That’s once.”
He reached out, fingers brushing the back of Mok’s hand, innocent enough to be deniable, deliberate enough to be infuriating.
“Rome,” Mok said again, sharper now. “That’s twice.”
Rome’s smirk only deepened. He lifted his other hand, fingertips grazing Mok’s wrist, eyes shining with mischief and challenge. “What happens if I don’t listen?”
That was enough.
In a single swift motion, Mok caught both of Rome’s wrists and pushed him back into the mattress. The bed dipped under the sudden force as Mok leaned over him, pinning Rome’s hands above his head, arms braced on either side—caging him in completely.
Rome sucked in a breath, surprise flashing for just a second before it melted into something far more dangerous. His pulse was quick under Mok’s grip, his smile slower now, softer—but no less smug.
Mok’s face was inches away, eyes dark, jaw clenched.
“I warned you,” he said lowly.
Rome looked up at him, breath shallow, eyes bright with delight rather than fear.
“And you finally stopped pretending you don’t care.”
The room felt impossibly small, the silence loud with everything Mok refused to say as he held Rome there, steady, controlled, and very aware that he was standing on the thinnest possible line.
Their breaths came in heavy gasps as Mok settled onto Rome's lap, the weight of the moment palpable. Rome lay flat on his back, arms pinned to the ground, his body tense and eyes wide with disbelief.
He couldn’t fathom that Mok had actually gone through with this move after all the teasing he had endured throughout the day. Rome had been deliberately pushing Mok's buttons, testing his patience and determination, expecting a different reaction, yet here he was, caught off guard by Mok’s boldness. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension, as both felt the unexpected turn of events shift their dynamic in an instant.
Mok locked eyes with Rome, the atmosphere thick with an electric tension that seemed to chill the very air around them. Rome’s breath caught in his throat, a mix of surprise and anticipation flooding through him. Mok shifted his body slightly, a deliberate movement that pressed them closer together, ensuring that Rome felt every inch of his presence. The world around them faded, leaving only the palpable connection that hung between them, intensifying with each heartbeat.
“mhok… what are you doing?” Rome huffed out as the grinding never stopped
“Khun Kridanai, do you really thinki dont know what you're doing?” Mok murmured into Rome’s ear, his breath warm and stirring, sending a cascade of shivers down Rome’s spine. Rome was flushed, a deep crimson hue lingering from the wine he had savored earlier, and at that moment, everything seemed to heighten his senses. Mok’s lips shimmered under the dim light, enticing and playful. As Rome leaned in, yearning to capture that intoxicating kiss, Mok was quicker, deftly maneuvering to hold him back, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Ugh, no, noo khun, you don't get to make the rules here anymore.”
Rome locked eyes with Mhok, a fierce intensity flickering between them. He bit his lip, the slight sting heightening his senses, while his hips instinctively shifted, yearning for any kind of friction. Yet, Mhok's presence loomed large, making it nearly impossible for him to move freely, creating a tension that charged the air around them.
“If you move one more time, Rome, I will leave you like this for the whole night, in cold sweat. Be an obedient boy, you are of mine, Khun.”
“Mine…” Rome repeated with a fervent eagerness, completely captivated by Mok's words. Each syllable felt like a sacred mantra, drawing him in deeper. Mok's voice resonated with a hypnotic quality; each moan and hitch in breath made Rome's heart race. It was as if every sound Mok made had been meticulously crafted just for him, igniting a fire within that he had longed to feel.
Mok moved slyly, removing Romeo’s pajamas, freeing his hard length while still holding Rome down with one hand.
Mok drops down low on the hard length, dragging his own clothed one, making Rome go crazy with every little touch, his own urges coming out, he wanted Rome desperately inside him, he can't control anymore. Mok quickly slid down, reaching Rome’s length and giving it a lick, just like a small kitten.
“Hands in my hair, guide me.” His voice was deep and rough, carrying a weight of desire that felt like it had been building forever. Rome obeyed, surrendering control as Mok enveloped him with eager warmth. As Mok took him into his mouth, the sensation was electric—intense and overwhelming, as though Mok were savoring every part of him like a sumptuous feast.
“Mok..omygod..please ….please don't stop” rome groaned slightly
Rome fought to suppress the sounds escaping his lips, knowing the other guards were still just outside. His fingers tangled tightly in Mok’s hair, anchoring himself even as pleasure coursed through him. The slick noises rising from Mok only increased the madness within him, igniting a fire that consumed all his thoughts.
All that echoed in his mind was one name: Mok… Mok… and just Mok.
Rome was on the brink of ecstasy when Mok suddenly stopped, leaning in to capture Rome's lips with a passionate kiss. Mok's mouth hungrily devoured the moment, saliva glistening as it dripped between them. It was an experience unlike any other, the best meal he had ever savored.
Their tongues danced and struggled for dominance. They were caught up in a passionate struggle that deepened their connection. They shared messy, wet kisses, each one more thrilling than the last. As they embraced, everything else faded away.
Rome decided to embrace the moment, leaning in to plant soft kisses along Mok's neck, savoring the warmth of his skin. With a deft motion of his free hand, he began to strip Mok of his clothes, peeling away the layers with an urgency that conveyed his desire. To his surprise, Mok didn't resist; instead, he surrendered to the flood of emotions washing over them. The kiss remained unbroken, a deep connection igniting between them. In one swift motion, Rome discarded his dress shirt, baring his torso. Now, they were skin to skin, their bodies pressing against each other as the kisses deepened, each one filled with the intense longing they had both harbored for so long.
“Please, let me open you up, let me feel you,” Rome pleaded, his voice soft and almost desperate, like a puppy seeking affection. Mok watched him with a smirk, his gaze playful yet teasing. He trailed his fingertips deliberately across Rome’s arm, his nails slowly grazing the skin.
“Oh, look who’s begging now,” Mok taunted, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Go on, puppy, show me just how skilled those fingers can be.”
And took Rome’s hand in his and guided it into his mouth, sucking on his two fingers, his eyes never leaving Rome.
As soon as Mok managed to free his fingers from his mouth, Rome wasted no time. He swiftly moved forward, flipping Mok onto his knees, leaving his backside exposed. With a teasing grin, he began to explore Mok's boundaries. “Wow, you’re so tight,” Rome prompted, which earned a deep moan from Mok that echoed with pure satisfaction, filling Rome's heart.
“Ro…me, romee, please, I need more now, let me ride you.” It sounded more like a command once again.
With that, Mok swiftly climbed on top of Rome, sinking down onto him with an intensity that took both of them by surprise. He clung to Rome as if his very life depended on it, resolutely preventing any movement from his partner beneath him. Mok moved with reckless abandon, up and down, in an unrestrained rhythm that radiated pure, exhilarating madness.
“Fuck..fuck …fuck mok your soo good..please dont stop.”
Rome felt excited and wanted to help by holding Mok's hips. But Mok wanted to take control, so he quickly pinned Rome's arms above his head with a strong grip.
“You can't touch me, Khun Kridanai,” Mok teased, a playful smile on his face as Rome let out a loud, almost desperate moan.
“Urghhhhh,” Rome groaned loudly
Mok leaned in closely, their breaths mingling in the charged air, and captured Rome’s lips with a passionate kiss. There was an urgency in the moment, a plea for connection, as Mok gently nipped at Rome's lower lip, eliciting a shiver of surprise and desire. Maoning into it, and Rome’s eyes rolled back as he was nearly there.
“I am close, Mok..very close.. let's finish together.”
Mok nodded slowly, his gaze intense as he let his hands slide down gently to rest on Rome's chest. He could feel the strong, rhythmic thumping of his heart beneath his fingertips, a steady beat that echoed the hurried pace of their emotions in that moment.
“aaa..fu..ck rome right there, please cum in me” mhok nearly shouted, hissing and groaning in pain and pleasure.
Rome finally took control, gripping Mok’s hips very tight and grinding his hips into Mok’s and finally releasing in him…while Mok cums undone without any touch. Mok slumped forward, lying on Rome’s chest, hugging him for his dear life and hiding his face in his chest.
“Happy early birthday, Khun Kridanai,” Mhok whispered, his breath warm against the cool air as he slowly maneuvered to gently draw Rome’s length out from him. He was preparing to slip away unnoticed, not daring to cast even a glance back. However, Rome reached out, catching Mhok's hand in a firm yet tender grasp, pulling him close once more.
Rome’s fingers tightened around Mok’s arm before he could fully pull away.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t leave,” Rome murmured, voice low and unguarded now, the teasing stripped away. “Not until I fall asleep.”
Mok stilled.
He turned back slowly, the hard lines of duty and restraint softening as his eyes met Rome’s. For once, there was no warning in his gaze, only something quiet, something honest. He nodded, just once.
“I won’t,” he said.
Rome loosened his grip, opening his arms without a word, an invitation that didn’t need asking twice.
Mok exhaled and let himself fall back into them.
Rome’s arms closed around him immediately, firm and warm, pulling him in until there was no space left between them. Mok rested against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the rise and fall beneath his cheek.
It felt like home.
It felt safe.
Mok didn’t fight it this time. He stayed still, allowed himself this small surrender, his hand curling lightly into the fabric of Rome’s shirt. Rome’s chin rested against his hair, protective and gentle, nothing playful about it now.
The room grew quiet again, the kind of silence that didn’t demand words.
Slowly, Rome’s breathing evened out, his hold loosening just enough to show he was drifting off—still there, still holding on.
And Mok stayed, exactly as he promised, guarding not just his sleep… but the fragile peace they’d found in each other’s arms.