He brings it up when they're eating dinner, and Arthit starts choking on his food. The elder takes a long drink of water before blinking and going, "I'm sorry. What?"
Kongpob gives him a bright smile as if this isn't suddenly a conversation about sex and the possibility of Arthit topping. "I asked if you wouldn't mind me being bottom. I've actually been thinking about it for awhile, before we even had sex, if we're being honest, but I never brought it up." His smile drops, and a look of confusion takes over. "Not really sure why. Guess I wanted to appear confident for you."
"You're appearing really confident right now, you know," Arthit responds, voice shaky. Kongpob brightens again, and Arthit sinks in his chair. "I—I like the idea, but... I don't know. I'm so used to how it is now that I never really pictured it any other way."
"But that doesn't mean things have to stay the same," Kongpob says. He hooks their ankles underneath the table, and Arthit's cheeks heat even more. They're practically on fire. "If you don't want to top, just tell me. It's not like I'll be mad. I like topping. A lot. I just think trying new things is good."
"I know," Arthit replies, sounding small. Kongpob gives him a worried look, but he shakes his head. "I'm fine. I just... it's weird to think about, I guess."
Kongpob gives him a look, but Arthit ignores it to instead stare at the ceiling. "Yeah," the elder declares eventually. "I'll do it. Just don't expect me to be good."
At the other's agreement, Kongpob doesn't care if he's "good" or not, the idea of Arthit not being good hadn't even crossed his mind. Instead of replying, Kongpob presses a kiss to his lips. "You'll do fine. I highly doubt there is such a thing as you being not good, anyway."
"We'll see," Arthit says, and the promise in his words makes Kongpob's blood run hot through his veins. Arthit seems to notice this, for he pushes Kongpob away. "Just... not today."
"Come on, P'Arthit," Kongpob whines, but he's not really bothered, knowing that, though he may be embarrassed about it, Arthit has never been one to back out of a promise he means. And he knows Arthit means this one.
He lets Arthit leave his dorm, the elder shouldering his backpack with one last glance at the younger, seeing the lascivious smile on his face, and shaking his head with a fond sigh as he closes the door behind him.
The day comes surprisingly soon, the two having ditched studying for a heavy makeout session that leaves them without shirts and quickly removing pants, touching each other through their boxers, before Kongpob nips at Arthit's lower lip and says, "I want it."
Arthit's breath catches audibly in his throat. "Really?" he asks.
Kongpob kisses down Arthit's jaw. "Yeah," he replies. "Really."
"Okay, I...." Arthit licks his lips, only fueling the lustful fire in Kongpob's eyes. His breath is still stuck in his throat, and his heart is working overtime, beating so fast Arthit's worried they may have to visit the hospital. Yet Kongpob is still working a hand over the bulge in his underwear, fingers deftly finding the head and squeezing. Arthit can't bite back the moan that spills out. "Okay," he says again. "Okay."
Kongpob smiles, oddly charming for such an intense atmosphere. "Thank you, P'Arthit."
"Hey," Arthit says, the younger's words startling him back into action as his hips jerk up into Kongpob's touch, "what are you thanking me for? I want this, too." The admission spills out before he can fully register it, but when he thinks over his words, he finds that it's true. He wants this.
Before Kongpob can reply, Arthit is bringing their lips together, gripping Kongpob's shoulders as he attempts to get on his knees, forcing Kongpob to lean back against the headboard. As soon as his back touches the board, Kongpob is scooting down the bed some, allowing Arthit to lean over him, one knee inside and one outside his thighs. Kongpob's hands run down his back, and Arthit shivers at the feeling of the younger's rough palms against his skin. His hands have moved from Kongpob's shoulders to one being planted on the bed next to the younger in order to hold himself up, the other tracing down his chest.
Kongpob groans against his lips before his fingers smooth along the waistband of his boxers, eventually slipping under and pushing them down. When his hips lift, Arthit does the same to him, tossing the younger's boxers somewhere behind him. One of Kongpob's hands drags back up his back, fingers curling around the nape of Arthit's neck. Their eyes meet as Kongpob pulls him down into a slow kiss. When they pull away, Kongpob lets out a soft breath before letting his hand slip from Arthit's neck down to his side, so he can reach over and pull open the top drawer of his nightstand, procuring a small bottle of lube. Arthit looks away from the item as Kongpob sets it on the bed to grab a condom from the drawer, too.
Fuck. This is actually happening.
"Hey," Kongpob says softly when Arthit still hasn't met his eyes again. "Hey, look at me."
Arthit does, gasping when he meets the younger's gaze. They're still cloudy with desire, but Arthit can still catch the glimmers of trust and love in them. He lets out a breath. Kongpob trusts him.
"We can stop at any time," Kongpob says, the same way he did their very first time, though Arthit feels like he should be the one saying it to Kongpob.
Either way, he nods as Kongpob hands him the small bottle of lube. Everything feels a bit too real, and Arthit's lightheaded. Did Kongpob feel this way all those months ago? He blinks as Kongpob stares expectantly at him. When he fumbles in opening the bottle, Kongpob places a gentle hand on his arm.
"Do you want me to do it?" he asks.
Arthit stares down at him before flushing and handing back the bottle. Kongpob doesn't say anything as he takes it, however, merely popping it open easily and pouring a generous amount on his fingers. Arthit's eyes follow the younger's hand as it makes its way down his body. His fingers brush over his erection, but that's all they do, passing it by to rub against—
Feeling like a useless voyeur, Arthit wraps his fingers around his boyfriend's cock, giving it a few tugs and making Kongpob gasp.
"Arthit," he says, and Arthit bites his lip at the lack of honorific. A low groan spills out from Kongpob's lips. Arthit doesn't retract his hand. He swallows as he looks down to where Kongpob has slipped another finger inside of himself. When his hips buck and he chokes out a moan, Arthit knows he's likely found his prostate. God. He licks his lips, glancing back up to his boyfriend's eyes. Kongpob is already staring at him, pupils dilated, mouth open. "P'Arthit," he breathes, "it feels so good."
A moan forces its way past Arthit's lips as he caves and he settles fulls on his knees, working a hand over himself.
Kongpob's moans only grow louder, pleas eventually spilling past his lips.
"P'Arthit," he gasps, "I want you. Please. God, I want you." Arthit nods, squeezing the base of his length, stopping his impending orgasm. Kongpob lets out another moan as Arthit removes his hand from his cock, reaching across the bed for the condom Kongpob had set by his side.
His hands are less shaky than before, but he can feel the heavy weight of Kongpob's gaze on him.
"Please, P'Arthit," he begs as Arthit rips the wrapper open, pulling out the condom and slipping it onto himself with trembling fingers.
"Yeah," Arthit replies, readjusting his position between the younger's legs, "yeah. I've got you."
Kongpob lets out a groan as he pulls out his fingers to instead wrap them around Arthit's shaft, spreading some of the lube onto him. Arthit shudders as Kongpob lets go, his own hand replacing the younger's so he can line himself up. He glances at Kongpob's face only to find that his eyes are closed, lips pressed together into a straight line. Arthit pauses.
"Hey," he says softly. Kongpob's eyes open. Arthit smiles. "Relax. Doing that helps more than you think."
There's a pause, and Arthit sees some of the tension leave Kongpob's body in the way he settles a bit further into the mattress.
"Yeah," Kongpob says, "okay. I can do that."
A small laugh makes its way past Arthit's lips, and another one spills out at Kongpob's unamused look.
"I'm trying," he says.
"I know," Arthit replies, leaning further over him to press a kiss to his closed lips. "It doesn't hurt as much as you might think, okay?"
"Yeah," Kongpob replies, sighing into the kiss. "I trust you."
"Yeah?" Arthit asks, once again aligning himself up with the younger. When the head of his cock bumps against Kongpob's rim, he lets out a startled gasp, but then Kongpob's arms are wrapping around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Arthit gives a slow exhale as he begins to slowly push in.
Kongpob pulls him into a kiss when he's about halfway in, and Arthit lets out a moan against his lips. Once he's all the way in, he freezes, giving Kongpob a moment to adjust. He's straining holding himself up, Kongpob hot and tight and so good, but he knows he needed some time, so he waits for the younger's cue.
It comes in the form of Kongpob shifting some, allowing Arthit to go a bit deeper in, twin gasps spilling from their lips. "You can move," Kongpob murmurs, meeting Arthit's gaze. "Please."
Arthit nods, pulling out some, gently pushing back in, eventually falling into a steady rhythm. "Kongpob," he whimpers, "you feel so—ah," his head lolls forward, and he grits his teeth as Kongpob moans.
"Yeah?" he asks. "Fuck, P'Arthit, you're doing so well. I feel so full."
Again, Arthit nods, a groan falling wantonly from his lips. "Kong," he pants, "fuck, Kong, I can't."
His thrusts speed up as Kongpob moans, fingers pulling his hair, one hand sliding down his back to claw into his skin. "Please," he whines as Arthit tugs at his hips, trying to find his prostate. "Fuck, harder, please."
And then he's being cut off as Kongpob tugs harshly at his hair, nails digging even deeper into his back, a loud cry ringing out. "Yes! Fuck, don't stop."
Arthit tries his best to get that spot again, and he knows he brushes over it, if Kongpob's growing moans are any indication, but he's slipping, way too near to release, surprised he's even lasted this long. "Kong," he stutters out, "I can't. I can't."
Kongpob nods as the hand that had been in his hair slides down the back of his neck, over his shoulder, and down his arm to lift his wrist and guide his hand to wrap his fingers around Kongpob's length. "P'Arthit," Kongpob whimpers, "please. I need it, please."
Arthit gives a broken response as his hand begins to move up and down the younger's shaft.
It's only a few tugs later that Kongpob gives a shout of Arthit's name and spills messily over his stomach and Arthit's fingers. It doesn't take much longer for Arthit, the sensation of Kongpob clenching around him and the sound of his voice enough to send Arthit over the edge.
He collapses atop the younger, reaching out and finding one of their discarded shirts, wiping his fingers off with it. Kongpob's nails no longer clawing into his back but rather smoothing steadily up and down his sweaty skin. "And you said you'd be bad at it," Kongpob teases, sounding breathless.
"I was nervous," Arthit replies, burying his nose in Kongpob's collarbone. They lay there together for another couple of second before Arthit pulls out, Kongpob making a face as Arthit pulled off and tied the condom, tossing it into the trash.
"Shower?" Kongpob asks.
"You sound tired," Arthit replies, looking down at him, "but I know you too well."
Kongpob laughs, lacing their fingers together. "We need to do laundry, too. I swear I won't do anything."
Arthit rolls his eyes but, after a few minutes, allows Kongpob to pull him up and over to the shower.