Interminable

'Luang Sanor! Khun Luang! Your Venerable! Please rescue Kaewta!' A low, frantic voice echoed. A faint apparition took form beside the venerable monk, who was lighting incense, and turned at once. His handsome face was etched with rising dread.

 

'Kaew was in danger. I can't rescue him!'

'Layman?'

 

"Can't touch him, sir...! cannot rescue him!'

 

"Layman, please hurry home." The monk told Chan Pen and the pair of youths, who cast a baffled look at him when he suddenly turned around and said.

 

"Is there anything wrong, sir?"

 

"Please go. Now." Despite not understanding, the three pay homage and excuse themselves all at once.

 

"And, Chan Pen, call out to your son often, call him with your heart. Don't let him go." After those words ended, they all rushed back to the residence. Almost simultaneously, a wave of dread brought Kaewta, who had separated from Ruedee since the afternoon, to the minds of three.

 

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"Oh? Are you here alone?" asked the sweet voice. He looked up from his book and smiled at her. Though he couldn't help but think this Ruedee's aunt was so much alike to that 'Lady Sophee,' he knew. However, he figured it couldn't be her.

 

"Yes. Ruedee was out with Phi Chai. What's brought you here?" The youth asked as he pulled out the seat for her.

 

"Nothing much. I just brought some snacks for you all to try." That reply came with a sweet grin.

 

"They should be back in a moment," Kaewta told her before closing his book and was ready to leave.

 

"Have a seat with me for a while, or do you have any errand to run?"

 

"No."

"Well. Then, try some snacks I made here. I'd like to know if they are both your favourite." Sophee cast a grin, unpacked the tiffin filled with snacks, and handed it to him. Kaewta hesitated for a moment, but after the other person's urging, it shouldn't hurt. Thus, he was forced to take a few bites out of courtesy.

 

"Is it good?" Sophee asked with those eyes gleaming.

"Yes."

 

"Oh, right, I have something you need to see. I believe it'll ring a bell." Sophie's smile stretched wide as she turned to retrieve something wrapped in cloth. From its size and shape, Kaewta guessed it was a picture frame. The fabric fell away. As the fabric fell away, revealing what lay beneath. Kaewta's eyes flew open in shock.

 

"That's-!"

 

"The linework looks a lot like yours, doesn't it?" Sophee rose from her seat, placing the portrait on the chair she'd just vacated before repositioning herself at his side.

 

"Where did you get that?" The question emerged in trembling tones as the slight figure sprang to his feet, hand extending toward the image.

 

"Someone sold it to me."

 

"Sorry?" The young man whipped around to stare at his friend's aunt. That sweet smile suddenly turned unnerving as its owner continued.

 

"Someone sold it to me. You know, I paid a fortune for this drawing."

"Why?"

 

"Not for your artistry. Don't fancy yourself so highly. That fortune price was for the one in the portrait."

 

"You know who this is?" Kaewta's brow arched, distrust colouring his gaze.

 

"Who else could it be but my dear man!" Her palm slammed the table with explosive force, causing Kaewta to stumble back and collide with the chair that held the portrait. He stared in disbelief at the woman before him. Her demeanour had turned savage; those previously smiling lips now twisted with rage. Hateful eyes bore into him. Slender fingers pressed against the table until her knuckles blanched.

"You can't steal him from me!" Her voice thundered. Kaewta flinched backwards, his hand hitting the painting.

-and suddenly, Lady Sophee fell into place.

"Khun Sopheel"

 

"No matter what happens, I will never let you have him!" Kaewta swivelled to his drawing and bolted toward the house, racing to the bedroom where he barricaded the door and crushed the drawing against himself. Khun Sophee was that Lady Sophee! No way. His pale hand pressed hard against his chest. His breath caught,  and his vision swam. He could hear pounding on the door as if someone was determined to break through. Though he felt every muscle weakening, Kaewta only gripped the painting even tighter. Breathing had become nearly impossible.

 

Khun Yai.

Khun Yai...

 

His last glimpse before darkness claimed him was the refined face leaning down with worry and shock, eyes spilling crystal drops. Those full lips shaping his name-

 

Kaewta.

My Kaewta...

Over and over agaın...

 

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On the great holy day of Buddhist Lent, the young master bade Nanny Yam prepare a bountiful set of alms-offerings for the monks. He resolved that this year he must certainly invite that dear person to make merit and share in the temple festivities. With a broad smile, he made his way toward the small dwelling, Saen following with the weighty offerings.

 

"Kaew will not accompany Khun Yai to the temple."

The answer stilled the young master where he stood.

 

"What did you say?"

 

"Kaew will not go to make merit and present offerings with Khun Yai at the temple." The youth turned to enunciate his answer slowly and distinctly for the person behind him, then returned to folding lotus petals. Payom looked up at that handsome countenance and could not suppress her laughter.

 

"Kaewta, how long will you keep jesting the young master so?"

 

"Indeed, sir. Khun Kaew is merciless, always tormenting my young master in this manner." Saen, who had been observing throughout, hurried to second Payom's words, nodding hard in agreement. Moved by his master's dejected look, he earned himself a fierce glare from Kaewta.

 

"Bring the offerings here," the youth said, taking them from Saen's hands. He raised the offerings to his forehead, shut his eyes in prayer, and then proffered them to the young master. "Please receive these, sir. Make your prayer."

 

"Hmm?" The young master, still at a loss, could only stand stock-still until Kaewta nudged him again. Then he lifted the offerings and prayed. Now then, let Saen bear these to the monks." The young man took the items from those larger hands and passed them to Saen, who received them in bewilderment.

 

"Me, sir?"''

 

"Or would you have Khun Phra Nai carry them himself?" Kaewta placed his hands on his hips and arched a brow in disdain. In his mind, he wished to say, 'Why not use Khun Kaew himself as an example?' Why invoke his young master? When Saen had gone with the offerings, Kaewta turned to the tall figure and spoke:

 

"Kaew does not wish to attend the temple offerings with Khun Yai, for if others were to see His Excellency's eldest son making merit with a boy, not only would Khun Yai be sullied, but the reproach would extend to your honoured father as well." These words from the person before him left him speechless. He regarded the youth with grave gratitude for such thoughtful consideration.

 

"My apologies for not understanding earlier, and I'm most thankful, Kaewta, for taking such care on my behalf." The youth shook his head, indicating it was nothing.

 

"If Khun Yai wishes to visit the temple fair, might you wait till evening? At that time, there would be fewer people, so that..."

 

"So that no one would see the young master with another gentleman." The young man completed Kaewta's sentence, gazing directly into those narrow eyes. "Thank you." The young master dearly wished to draw this lovely person into a close embrace, yet with the other's mother present, he contented himself with taking that small hand in his, holding it lightly as he helped the youth and his own mother prepare the offerings for tomorrow's merit-making.

 

When the Buddhist Lent festival had long passed, the bustle had ebbed as well. Kaewta set down his sketching pencil and turned toward the sounds at the front of the house. Stepping out, he found Saen arriving with Nanny Yam and a group of servants, all laden with bundles.

 

"Nanny Yam," Kaewta greeted her with a respectful wai.

 

"What a lovesome, endearing face-no wonder." Nanny Yam peered at the youth's face and let a smile unfurl. During their previous encounter, when the youth had been coaxed into giving her master medicine, she hadn't had time to observe him properly. Today, she meant to take her fill. No wonder her young master adored him so, with his gentle manners, modest bearing, and a nature to match his looks.

 

"Yes, Nanny."

 

"Come, let us go inside. Is your mother not at home?" The elderly woman strode in as though the place were hers, leaving the youth looking puzzled. Catching Saen's troubled look, he held his tongue. "She's helping with work at Luang Sanor's residence, Nanny."

 

"Is that so? Well then, never mind. You lot, set everything down and be off," Nanny Yam said, dismissing the servants after they had placed everything on the veranda.

 

"Er, what are all these things, Nanny?" he asked while examining the items.

"Flowers; materials for flower sachets, garlands, and the like."

 

"Huh? And why bring them here?"

"For you to make, of course," Nanny Yam tilted her chin toward the young man.

 

"Me?" Kaewta pointed at himself to confirm he hadn't misunderstood.

"Yes, you. Who else? Sit."

 

"Wait. I don't know how to make any of this."

 

"That's why I'm here to teach you now!" Nanny Yam planted her hands on her hips and barked. Kaewta sat at once.

"But why must I learn to make them?" he asked, taking the materials she handed him.

 

"Mercy! So that when Khun Yai returns from work, you'll have garlands to offer him. You must practice making scented powder, too. Won't it be lovely when he embraces you and finds your fragrance so pleasing? And the flower sachets are for him to carry on his person."

 

The torrent of explanation flew by so quickly that Kaewta could scarcely keep up, only one thing lodged: It's for Khun Yai."

 

SMACK!

"Ouch!"

 

"I told you to be gentle! Look, the petals are all bruised now!" By the time he finished a single garland, several of his ten slender fingers were nicked. And the garland itself was so battered it hurt to look at. Nanny Yam regarded the handiwork and shook her head before carrying Kaewta's bruised garland back into the house.

 

The youth sat muttering, unaware that his garland had been laid carefully at the head of the young master's bed. At first sight, the young master raised quite a fuss with the household servants, demanding to know why such a petty-looking, bruised garland had been placed on his bed. Only when Saen whispered something in his ear did he clear his throat and compose himself.

 

That night before his sleep, the young master smiled contentedly at that bruised garland once he knew its maker. That knowledge alone rendered it so exquisite that it stood peerless.

 

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"Khun Yai, His Excellency has summoned you, sir." The fair hand, in the act of fastening the buttons of his shirt, paused as his brow knit, pondering what business Father might wish to lay before him, especially now that Phrom's case had been handed over to the Royal Police Department.

 

"What does Father require of me?" The young man took his seat facing his father.

 

"It concerns your marriage." Even his father seemed to find the subject hard to broach.

"l"

 

"Sophee has come to a marriageable age. I have hoped that you would marry her, so that you may tend to her."

 

"Father, I hold Sophee only as a younger sister."

"Marry her first, and affection will follow of itself."

 

"Please grant me time to consider, sir."

 

"Have you another in mind? Then take her as a minor wife. So long as Sophee remains your principal wife, I believe no censure will arise." His well-meaning father had decided the matter on his own. Yet the young nobleman dared not refuse outright, bound by the obligation he owed his adoptive father, who had entrusted everything to him, now that his true son, Phrom, stood accused of conspiring with those who had defrauded the Royal Treasury. How could he repay such kindness with ingratitude?

 

While one troubled heart sought a means to decline this marriage, another, listening in the shadows, wore a satisfied grin. It was she who had prompted her father to speak on her behalf. Sophee's smile unfurled as she beckoned her trusted attendant to help choose fabrics for her bridal garments. She felt certain that, ere long, her beloved would consent, unable to refuse their father. If so, all would be well. For then, she need not resort to anything dire against that performer!

 

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The willowy form crossed his arms. As he took in the sight before him, a smile curved his lips, only to be jolted by an embrace from behind. A soft reproach escaped him at the recognition of the arms that held him.

 

"Khun Yai!"

 

"What are you doing?" The young lord tightened his embrace, burying his nose in those soft tresses to breathe their faint fragrance. Kaewta made no answer, only letting his gaze drift back to the work before him. "Is your drawing finished, then?"Khun Yai loosened his embrace for a better view. "Exquisite; but tell me, who holds the greater beauty-the living model or his likeness?" The nobleman posed beside the painting for comparison as he asked. Kaewta laughed under his breath, then considered. "Mmm..."

 

"Speak plainly-who is fairer, the one in the flesh or his portrait?"

 

"Hmm..." The more the other pressed him, the more the youth toyed with indecision, until his interrogator could bear it no longer and gathered him into his arms.

 

"Hmm..." The more urgently the other pressed, the more the young man feigned indecision until his interrogator could bear no more and swept the smaller figure into his arms.

 

"Are you teasing me?"

"No-mmph!"

 

The man stooped to claim those scarlet lips in a kiss of mock reproof, which soon gentled into play. He nibbled his beloved's lower lip until a soft gasp parted it, granting him entry to those honeyed depths. Strong hands cupped that smooth face. When he drew back, he gazed into those dark, lustrous eyes. The handsome head lowered until their foreheads touched, the prominent nose brushing the button one beneath with tender fondness, followed by a feather-light kiss.

 

"When did you begin sketching my portrait?"

 

"Since we returned from the forest, when Khun Yai was injured that time." The answer sent a rosy flush over those smooth cheeks. The tall figure looked on, overcome, breathing in their faint fragrance until he had his fill, and said,

 

"Promise me, Kaewta, that you will draw only me."

"I promise."

 

Strong hands slid down to loop around the slender waist, drawing him close before claiming another kiss. This time, without force or torment but rather softly and sweetly, prompting the smaller figure to raise his arms to return the embrace. The kiss left slender shoulders trembling, something wild racing through his chest until his ears rang. The man broke away, granting his beloved to gasp for air. Those crimson lips, now deeper red and glistening, were as if beckoning, summoning him to kiss insatiably.

 

Kaewta, who had not yet filled his lungs, tilted his face to meet the ardour. When sense returned, he answered the kisses with equal fervour.

 

"Mmm..." A deep groan rumbled in his throat. The man pulled back before his beloved could collapse, gathering him to his broad chest.

 

"I could kiss Kaewta from dawn to dusk."

 

"Rogue." Breathless and shaken, the sweet voice murmured in halting protest. The tall figure gave a soft laugh. Tightening his playful hold, he turned and sank against the wall without loosening his captive. Kaewta could but follow, settling cradled in those strong arms. Khun Yai rested his chin on the slender shoulder, gazing upon his beloved's handiwork with a quiet smile.

 

"I daresay the original far surpasses his portrait. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Hmm?"

 

"Because the original may hold you."

 

"Ah!" Kaewta turned to face the speaker, rolling his eyes despite the bloom spreading across his cheeks.

 

"And may kiss you, too. Truly?" This time, the crimson swept from his cheeks to the very tips of his ears. Khun Yai gazed at him, his eyes alight with laughter, as bright as stars. Then he caught that delicate chin and turned his face for yet another kiss.

 

The nearly completed White Manor took the merciless lash of the rain, the gale leaving those within its sweep drenched and shivering with cold. He sprang ashore first, then extended his hand to help the other alight. All the while, he sheltered the smaller one beneath the umbrella, though it proved futile, for both were already soaked through to the skin.

 

Though morning had broken in fierce sun, prompting him to invite Kaewta to view the White Manor, midway through their journey, the sky blackened, and the rain came down in torrents. Kaewta had only recently told his mother of the dwelling's existence and his resolve, to which Payom did not object.

 

"It should be completed by the dry season, Khun Phra Nai," the master builder said. Despite all their haste, they could not outrun the first monsoon. Though only the finishing touches remained, the work must now cease with the rains. The young man merely inclined his head before dismissing the workers, for it seemed the rain would not soon relent.

 

"Kaewta, go bathe first. You'll catch a cold at this rate," Khun Phra Nai called to the smaller figure who stood shivering by the doorway, refusing to step inside.

 

"The floors will get wet..." Those vermilion lips, now pale from the chill, trembled so violently that his teeth chattered audibly.

 

"Let them be wet, then, Little One. Come inside, or shall I carry you?" The hesitant youth's eyes widened before he hurried to him. The tall figure laughed at this display, raising a hand to tousle the wet hair with fond mischief.

 

"But where shall I bathe?" Kaewta looked up inquiringly.

"Why, in the bathroom, of course," he answered, suppressing his laughter.

 

"But isn't it yet finished, sir?"

 

"Nearly everything is complete. Besides, I've already had the servants bring over some of our necessities."

 

The young man said as he opened the wardrobe to retrieve fresh clothes for Kaewta.

 

"And what of you, Khun Yai?"

 

"Hmm? Or would you have me join you in the bath?" teased the young man, until those smooth cheeks flushed rosy.

 

"You should bathe first, Khun Yai."

 

"You go first. Look at you-chilled through." His fair hand reached up to touch the slender arm with concern.

 

"Khun Yai is just as cold as you are," the youth countered, catching hold of that strong arm.

 

"...When you speak thus, I shall think you say it for my favour."

 

"For your favour?" Kaewta gazed at that curved smile with its sly light, quite at a loss.

 

"For my favour that Kaewta wishes to invite me to bathe together."

 

"Huh?" Without waiting for another word, the young lord gathered the delicate one into his arms and bore him into the bathing chamber. "Khun Yai!"

 

"What is it?" The young man smiled, mischief in his eyes, setting down the body in his arms with gentle care.

 

Er..."

 

"Come now, remove your wet clothes quickly. It would not do to catch a cold." 

 

Not only did he speak, but his large hands also grasped the other's shirt hem and swiftly pulled it upward. Before the one being disrobed could take in what was afoot, his slender arms lifted of their own accord as the tall figure deftly pulled the shirt away, followed by the trousers, until he stood bare. Only then did full awareness break.

 

"Khun Yai!" The sweet voice rang out in alarm, a deep blush suffused that fair countenance. Delicate hands flew down to shield what remained of modesty.

 

"Yes?" The man dropped the discarded garments in the basket, his lips curving upward.

 

"Are you teasing me, Khun Yai?" By now, pale skin had flushed from head to toe beneath the ogling of the tall figure.

 

"I'm not teasing at all." Speaking thus, he drew nearer to the slight form, closing the distance until his warm breath caressed a delicate cheek. Slender shoulders quivered at the contact. This unforeseen intimacy set his heart to fluttering wildly.

 

"Kaewta." The deep, husky voice called forth. A strong hand gently lifted that smooth chin, compelling the smooth-cheeked youth to meet his gaze. A kiss, light as a feather, brushed the soft curve of his cheek.

 

"Mmm." Small hands rose to rest upon the broad chest, yet made no effort to create distance. The young lord's eyes were hazy as he bent to claim those soft lips with his own, withdrawing only to seek those trembling, honeyed eyes.

 

"I love Kaewta. You know this, don't you?" The sweet visage inclined in a slow nod, soft eyes gazing upward. This simple gesture sent the young lord's heart thundering so violently that it pained him. He tilted his head, pressing fevered lips to the smooth cheek before slowly straying to those rose-tinted lips, petitioning with repeated gentle nips. His broad hands fell to trace the rounded sweep of the shoulders, each delicate touch drawing shivers from Kaewta as they continued their journey to the narrow waist.

 

"Mmm." A smeared, sweet moan broke as heated palms glided over the rounded hips, kneading the soft flesh until the slight body startled and sought retreat, yet found himself caught within the embrace, unable to flee. Small hands grasped desperately at his shirt as waves of sensation coursed through every nerve. Each place those burning hands explored seemed branded by living flame.

 

"Khun Yai." The honeyed voice called his name, so sweetly it threatened to undo the listener entirely. When callused palms ventured lower to cup and stroke in measured rhythm, the small form jolted and clung desperately to him. Breath came in ragged gasps-quickening, faltering-following the cadence of those large hands' movements. The slender waist undulated, as if to flee, then pressed back against that ardent touch with desperate need. The young lord clenched his jaw, restraining the tempest of desire that threatened to overtake him, unwilling to hasten his beloved beyond what they could bear.

 

The cold water had begun its flow at some unknowable moment, pattering against the floor in harmony with the endless rain beyond, yet failing to mask the sweet cries issuing from the trembling figure held secure in Khun Phra Nai's embrace. Burning lips found the sweat-dampened temple just as the man intensified his touch, fingers moving with renewed purpose until his darling moaned aloud, as one falling from a great precipice until desire's release spilt across those thick palms.

 

The man laid the delicate form upon the grand bed before following to lie over the smaller one. His large hand rose to sweep away silken strands of raven hair from the porcelain visage. That alabaster complexion bloomed with rose, breath coming in quickened sighs. Narrow, heavy-lidded eyes gazed upward with such melting sweetness, unwittingly conveying wordless entreaties to the one above. Those crimson lips, dewy and inviting, beckoned him to descend and plunder kiss after kiss. 

 

The young lord partook of that honeyed nectar at such indulgent leisure that the one beneath nearly swooned for want of air, yet no demurral passed those lips. Delicate hands lifted to caress broad shoulders whilst tilting upward to receive those ardent kisses without reluctance. The man moulded his form closer still, and the one below undulated to heighten their mutual friction.

Kaewta's eyes widened, his frame quivering as Khun Phra Nai's virile heat pressed against his belly. 

 

The youth regarded him with becoming modesty, cheeks suffused with carmine, as the other rolled his hips until their inflamed parts touched. A fevered palm enveloped them both in tandem, his wrist orchestrating a rhythm from languid caresses to fervent strokes as ardour mounted.

 

"Mmm!" The baritone rumble emerged from his throat, but his hand suddenly stilled just as the smaller form was teetering upon rapture's precipice. The youth's back arched as the slender wrist strained against the iron grip. Kaewta gazed upward with beseeching bewilderment. The sculpted visage curved in a smile, bestowing kisses upon the one below before his hand resumed its ministrations as his beloved wordlessly implored. The youth writhed as sensation soared to the edge of heaven, dulcet whimpers beside his ear spurring Khun Phra Nai's hand to quicken his tempo.

 

The diminutive form, still exhausted, parted his lips for air. He wished to protest when the one above shifted to rise, capturing ivory limbs to drape over broad shoulders, yet he had not the strength to either speak or flee. The heated palm that had just delivered him to ecstasy now mapped the lush curves of his hips, kneading in a manner that made him tense with trepidation. Then that hand ventured toward the rear portal. Kaewta raised a trembling hand to stifle his cries as resolute fingers breached and gently claimed that tight passage, deliberate, yet inexorable, and never once relenting in the least. 

 

Though prior dewiness had eased the way, the constriction still brought difficulty and soreness. Scorching lips anointed him from calf to inner thigh, each caress so molten the youth jolted. His other delicate hand clenched the linens as though to rend them, whilst those skilled fingers thoroughly breached his sanctum. The heated fingertips traced slow circles, schooling familiarity before growing from one to two, then from two to three, stroking and questing until the lithe body arched when that sensitive place was discovered.

 

"Uhh!" The lovely visage thrashed, seeking relief from awakened sensations. Long indigo tresses fanned the pillow, honeyed sobs spilling past bitten lips. Delicate shoulders quaked from the tempest building within. The alabaster legs draped upon broad shoulders trembled. That ivory skin blushed to rose with mounting passion.

 

The young man set his jaw until muscles stood sharply, barely leashing his control at the tableau before him. Khun Phra Nai eased the slender arm from those beguiling lips.

 

"Kaewta, grant me your voice." His plea came soft and sweet. Each caress drew quivering, melodious moans for his ear. The more his mouth was taken, the more inebriate with rapture he became. When fingers retreated, the one below tightened around them, unwilling to let them go.

 

"My dear, Kaew." The imposing figure murmured against those bruised lips, his timbre rough with desire. Large hands supported the rounded hips before he followed closely. Delicate shoulders resisted once the young lord pressed his heated length through that portal. He withdrew a measure, then advanced through the narrow channel.

 

"Ugh!" The slight form shuddered. That part of the one above proved solid as tempered steel, searing as live embers. The smarting chafed, bidding him to clench his teeth against the cries. Prior bliss fell away utterly, leaving nought but anguish that wrung forth broken sobs. The rending below felt as though his very being would be torn.

 

"Love..." Fevered lips stooped to scatter enticing kisses. Their tongues entwined to console the one beneath, tracing the fine ear, nibbling to raise frissons along vulnerable shoulders and the hollow of his throat before finding harbour at his left chest. Rough palms explored every silken plane. The tightly drawn brows gradually softened as a heated hand once again clasped his smouldering arousal. The man stroked to and fro until the slight form curled inward from the tingling sensations, whilst slender hips stilled once fully sheathed. 

 

The man exhaled, leaning to drink in the flushed countenance below. He brushed kisses against the dewy sheen along his darling's hairline, sliding their hands together to intertwine... then pressed his hardness deeper. Powerful hips bore in, bodies swayed, adhering to the shared rhythm.

 

"I love you, Kaewta... I love you so much." The deep voice murmured against his ear. Slender shoulders quivered as those tender words were uttered.

 

"Khun Yai..."

 

With gentle flow, he moved slowly for the youth's adjustment. Small fingers dug into the back of his larger hands, leaving stinging pain as the one above sank deeper. That sweet carnal-searing and tight-was stiff in resistance. It was gripping him so hard that he almost went liquefied. The young lord ground his teeth for self-restraint. 

 

Unable to thrust, the man felt the need to resort to coaxing with fingers upon that sensitive area once more until the one beneath writhed in erotic need. Beads of perspiration dripped to mingle with the form below. The slender chest heaved when being aroused beyond counting. From a languorous pace to urgent rhythm, agony transformed into tingling and then into ripples of pleasure...

 

"HIC!" The dulcet cry emerged laced with honeyed sobs, spurring swifter movement. His lordship clasped the small hands more tightly, thrusting forward with mounting, soaring passion. Warm tears fell from fine-lined eyes. He bent to kiss away the salty drops. The thick frame quickened his strokes, satiating the lithe body that it arched in response. The ramming pace accelerated tremendously, sending the one below into wild thrashing from an overwhelming sensation. 

 

Desire coiled tightly, then released every essence within that scorching channel. Deep groans melded with euphoric cries from below as both reached heaven's shore together. The aristocrat remained still, steadying his laboured breath before shifting upward to bestow tender kisses upon the youth in his embrace. The slight form quivered as waves of sensation crashed over him until consciousness flickered and dimmed from sweet exhaustion.

 

The young man's smile radiated pure bliss. Tapering fingers smoothed damp, dishevelled tresses in adoration. He planted a kiss on the rounded forehead, flushed cheeks, and finally swollen lips before carefully withdrawing. Gathering the petite form against his chest, he held tight with overflowing joy. The handsome face shone as he kissed that smooth forehead once more. Cradling his beloved close, a certain verse suddenly came to mind, making him feel somewhat abashed. Khun Phra Nai smiled faintly at how perfectly apt it was.

The monarch clasped his consort tight. Unversed, they laughed, veiled their novice fright. She veered, she writhed, to break free from grip, Like keel in mire, she failed to let slip, Yet man and maid, unmoved by prying din, They forged a thrill that burned within. Switt flared their lust, a scarlet flame, like powder packed in a flintlock frame; The spark flew free, the lead took flight, A thunderclap rang far and wide. In bliss, they soared afloat on air, no sweeter rapture they can compare. She coaxed; he met her every plea, Till spent, they sank into slumber sea.

 

The slender form stirred, delicate brows drawing together as pain coursed through his lower body, compelling him to lie still. Enveloped in warmth, he lifted his gaze and discovered himself resting upon another's bare body-and he himself was equally unclothed. Heat suffused his smooth features, flaring with the memory of recent events that had lulled him into a sudden sleep. Drawing a deep breath, he attempted to rise. Yet before he could sit fully, he found himself drawn back down, a warm palm tracing languidly along his exposed spine before settling at the curve of his hips.

 

"Urgh! Khun Yai!" Kaewta's small hand struck the broad chest without much force. The wandering hand stilled, followed by a rich chuckle rumbling. Kaewta raised his eyes to meet that sparkling gaze and felt the urge to land another fist on that handsome countenance for looking far too pleased.

 

"What was that?"

 

How dare he ask! The youth pressed away, attempting to rise and flee, yet slower than the one whose eyes had been gleaming. As Kaewta pushed himself up, the silken coverlet slipped to the pool at his slender waist, revealing pale skin dappled with red marks across his narrow chest. In one fluid motion, Khun Phra Nai reversed their positions, now looming above.

 

"Oh!" Kaewta's lips parted in surprise at being taken unawares.

 

"Where are you off to?"

 

"To my quarters, sir. The hour grows quite late." His voice softened beneath those star-dazzling eyes. Colour rose in his smooth cheeks as his eyes inadvertently traced the strong chest above, pale skin bearing only the marks of fingernails; no question as to their craftsman.

 

"Stay a while longer, won't you?" The deep voice emerged rough with barely tempered desire, for their recent passionate bout had brought their bare bodies into such intimate contact that heat now coursed through every fibre of his being. Moreover, the warm, fair body, flushed pink in his arms, proved irresistible. He longed to lavish his affections upon him several times more.

 

Licking his lips, Khun Phra Nai let his gaze drop to his beloved's reddened mouth. Their heated breaths hitched and quickened. He lowered himself to claim those lips, and their earlier passion resumed its play.

The sweet moan broke low, yet it carried the shimmer of blissful torment and a sultriness that stretched to the edge of dawn.

 

Kaewta had no strength left to reproach the one who was holding him close and bestowing kisses all over his shoulder, the hollow of his neck, and along his cheek. He could but surrender to the other's tender ministrations whilst resting languidly against that broad chest.

 

"Enough now... I'm in pain..." The bearer of that deep voice let out a gentle laugh, drawing the delicate figure more securely into his loving arms when his beloved voices protest. He pressed a kiss upon the sweat-dampened temple before ceasing his sweet torment of the enfeebled form within his hold. The small palm turned upward and was taken into a larger one. The coolness in his palm beckoned the young gentleman to open his eyes and observe.

 

"Uh?" Kaewta regarded the object within his grasp, then raised his countenance to gaze upon the one who held him from behind.

 

"This ring... I would love Kaewta to wear it always." The youth made no immediate reply. Small fingers lifted the ring for examination, discerning an inscription upon the inner band, whereupon he bent to decipher it....For eternity...

 

"Would Kaewta accept this ring?" The youth turned to meet fully the gaze of his companion, rendered speechless for a considerable while before he gave his assent with a nod. Such profound emotion swelled within his chest, almost sending him breathless. His doe-like eyes brimmed with unshed tears, prompting consoling kisses from the one behind. The larger hand took up the ring, raised his beloved's left hand with care, and slipped the band upon that finger before lifting that same hand to his lips. Lightly, he bestowed a kiss upon that ring-adorned finger, then spoke the vow that would bind him in heart and soul.

 

"I vow that my love for Kaewta will endure for all eternity..."

 

"HIC!" Slender shoulders quaked. A delicate hand rose to stifle the sob that threatened to escape, yet tears coursed freely down his cheeks. The gentleman smiled with infinite tenderness as he tightened his embrace.

 

"Won't you put a ring on me, too?" The one behind extended his other hand, revealing a matching gold band, differing only in its size. Upon its surface were engraved the same words. With trembling fingers, the smaller hand picked up the larger ring, took the gentleman's right hand, and slipped the band upon his finger. He pressed a gentle kiss on the ring, mirroring the other's gesture. Their beringed hands intertwined, fingers lacing together tightly, as they exchanged feather-light kisses of such tenderness upon one another. The figure on the bed could only gaze at the tall silhouette settling beside him, his expansive smile stirring a wave of vexation within.

 

"What exactly are you grinning about?" The honeyed voice asked sharply. Each attempt to shift position brought a grimace, for his entire frame burned and ached with fever. And the culprit behind his aches sat before him, beaming in contentment.

 

"Nothing at all," he demurred with a shake of his head, yet the young man's glare remained unwavering. With a resigned exhale, the man's smile revealed.

 

"Forgive me, little one. I'm the one to blame for your fever." His baritone voice grew softer. The indignant one only averted his gaze, due to the mortification that overpowered anger.

 

Kaewta's eyes followed the broad back of the man preparing fish porridge for him. The sudden warmth bloomed in his chest as his gaze drifted to the golden band adorning his left ring finger, setting his pulse aflutter.

 

"Khun Yai."

 

"Yes?" The man set the porridge aside, turning with concern. Your cheeks are flushing. Is the fever worsening?"The white hand rose to the smooth forehead to take the temperature. Kaewta shook his head as he took him by the hand.

 

"Thank you, sir."

"Hmm?"

 

"Thank you for loving me this deeply." The youth drew the captured palm to rest against his cheek, eyes fluttering closed to savour the tender warmth.

 

"I should thank you, too, for letting me love you this way." He bent to plant a tender kiss upon those waiting lips, conveying a cherished declaration before pulling back. 

 

His ring-adorned right hand lifted his beloved's left, pressing a swift kiss before his smile stretched wide. Kaewta's laughter bubbled at the endearing gesture, prompting a mirror response by raising the larger man's right hand to press a quick kiss to his ring finger in kind before letting go.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

His Excellency sat in silence, gazing at his eldest son, before whom met his eyes without a flicker of fear, and heaved a sigh, heavy at heart, for he knew not how he might carry the words just spoken to his only daughter so that she would be grieved as little as possible. He knew the true heart of his adopted son, and he knew, too, the heart of Sophee.

 

"Who is it that gives you the courage to refuse this marriage?"

"Who emboldens you to refuse this marriage?"

 

"..." The young lord made no reply.

 

"If she proved unsuitable, do not think I shall readily allow you to register her as your lawful wife."

 

Khun Phra Nai, formerly a police colonel and now a police inspector, found himself at a loss for words. Not that he had failed to reckon with this predicament; indeed, these very thoughts had lain heavy upon his heart.

 

"Whatever the circumstances, I shall not wed Sophee, Father."

 

"Very well then. I shall set this matter aside for the present." Yet 'for now' did not betoken his perpetual acquiescence. Nevertheless, it brought a smile to the young lord's face. He intended to keep refusing indefinitely, or until the day Sophee might marry another. Then the weight upon him would at last be lifted. The young lord departed the residence in high spirits. 

 

For these past months, he had frequented Kaewta's modest dwelling almost every evening. On occasions when he possessed work that could be brought home, he would dispatch Saen ahead to deliver it, then sit to watch the slender youth sketch or rehearse his melodies. When night wore deep, and Mother Payom was absent, he would find ways to tease his beloved until dulcet, breathless sighs stole to his ear, leaving him witless in his embrace time and again.

 

Clapping his right hand, Khun Phra Nai caressed the ring on his finger with a glad heart. At the thought of what Kaewta might be doing now, where he had gone, whether he missed him, his happiness swelled the more. Even Saen, coming forth from the house with Nanny Yam, could only shake his head; yet he too could not help but smile alongside his master.

 

The drought had left long spells between rains. The White Manor was newly completed, but if the auspicious day for the merit-making rites was to be at year's end, the young nobleman was sorely vexed, for it seemed an age to wait with the fire that burned in his chest. He longed to be with Kaewta each day, each moment. The hours they shared fell far short of the love now filling his chest. He wanted to share everything with the youth, be it happiness or sorrow, smiles, laughter, or tears, to gather Kaewta close as sleep overtook them, to wake to his beloved's face cradled in his arms, to murmur love each day, to draw the same breath beneath one roof.

...At the White Manor, at our love nest...

 

With such sentiments that still cling to his heart, when he arrived at the small abode, and Saen handed him an official missive, his brow knitted in displeasure. Since his elevation to police commander, he'd been responsible for overseeing all patrol divisions. This charge might require several days' absence. Since the first day he had held Kaewta to his chest, not once had he been away on duty for more than two days.

 

"Auntie Payom~" Saen called in a long, sing-song drawl when he saw Kaewta sitting with his mother. He bounded over and latched onto the youth's arm with a broad grin.

 

"What is it, young man? Putting on such sweetness like this, what are you after?" Payom laughed at his antics, then coughed lightly, her constitution as frail as ever.

 

"Can you escort me to the market, please? I heard a new likayli troupe has opened." 

 

Casting a glance at the noble officer and her son, Payom understood his intention and agreed at once. After holding the youth in his embrace for an age, until the other had grown soft and yielding against his chest, the tall man still held Kaewta fast, unwilling to let go. 

 

Several days would pass before he could return to take his beloved in his arms again. So, to store enough warmth to sustain him would not harm. His warm palm drifted softly along the smooth, bare back, with no intent to inflame as before. He wished only to touch, to cradle Kaewta like this forever.

Those raven tresses, which now fell to mid-back, were idly threaded through strong fingers, a striking contrast against porcelain skin. 

 

Khun Phra Nai set soft kisses in that fragrant hair, straying to the rounded brow, across the delicate cheek, then tipped up that chin with tender fingers until the one in his arms raised those eyes to meet his own. That flawless visage flushed rose, eyes sweet and fathomless, cherry lips swollen and tender. The longer he gazed, the deeper his fondness took root. His Kaewta is gentle and strong, yet at times so vulnerable; impish one moment, unbearably sweet the next. How many thousand declarations must he utter to match these overflowing feelings?

 

Love.

Love...

 

"I love you, Kaewta. "Please tell me if you feel the same way." The man entreated. Despite the countless times they had united in body and soul, the young man had never once spoken those words aloud... love.

 

"..."

"Won't you?" He sighed. Even when being teased to the most intimate throes, Kaewta would pull him into a kiss rather than let that word slip.

 

"Is all that I have shown you still not prove myself?" came a husky, gentle voice, the owner of those crimson lips lowering his head, hiding the flush upon his cheeks until his chin nearly touched the chest.

 

"Has all that I have shown you still not proved me true?" came the husky, gentle reply, the owner of those crimson lips lowering his head, hiding the flush upon his cheeks until his chin nearly touched the chest.

 

"Even knowing it, I still long to hear it from Kaewta's lips. Won't you say it for me?" His entreating voice carried to the other's ear. The tip of his high-bridged nose skimmed the smooth cheek, kindling it with heat.

 

"Once you return.."

"Yes?"

 

"Once you return from your duties, I shall tell you the word you wish to hear."

 

"Truly?" He had nearly resigned himself, unwilling to compel. Merely having Kaewta in his arms should have been enough. Even without the word love' in return, it should have sufficed.

 

"Mmm."

 

"Promise me. When I return from this duty, I shall at last hear that word from you." The man sought his pledge. The one nestled in his arms smiled, radiant, and pressed his face to that solid chest to hide his endearing shyness.

 

"I promise. Once you return, then Kaew will say that word."

 

If you are branch, Isoar as jay,

And grasp your limbs the forest way.

If you are fruit of maidens rare,

I'll rule the throne that waits you there.

If you're the lotus on the mere,

I'll buzz as bee and linger near.

If you're the river, broad and true,

I'll rise as naga sheltering you.

If you're the cave where echoes roam,

I'll glide a swan and call it home.

If you're a goddess, crowned above,

Grant me your skies and endless love.