Peraya Fantasy

Happy reading

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Kongpob hated birthdays.

Not in the sense of getting a year older. Hell, he practically cheered it on as a victory over his past circumstances.

No, it was in the sense of it being some sort of 'event' which people inevitably forgot or celebrated rather awkwardly. All in all, he was normally relieved when no one remembered.

He found himself thinking a little differently today, however, as he glanced at Arthit with an appraising smirk.

Maybe it's time to reevaluate this birthday thing...

...I mean, how many guys come home from work on their birthday to find their lover with only his past hazer shirt with some splatters of vanilla frosting spread on his couch, feverishly jerking themselves off and moaning the birthday boy's name?

Arthit twitched and bucked his hips as his hand flickered between his legs, stroking and pulling his aching length.

"Ahh... K-kong!"

He moaned softly, his eyes screwed shut.

"Kong..."

"Uhm yes Oon?"

"FUCK!"

Arthit's eyes flew open in horror as the man who he'd been fantasizing about stood before him, perplexed but amused. And home from his job a lot earlier than Arthit had bargained for.

"So- uhm- what're you doing?"

Kongpob asked slowly, trying to keep the laughter from his voice. Arthit looked embarrassed and liable to turn violent in a situation such as this, but the urge to tease him was overwhelming.

"I-I.. well.. Fuck you! You're not even supposed to be home yet!"

"That's not very nice, Oon. Khun Danai gave me the afternoon off. It's my birthday and you're jerking off in my living room, I got the right to ask why don't I?"

"I'm not- It's not like that!"

Arthit protested, grimacing at how high and pitchy his voice emerged.

"Then what are you doing?"

Kongpob questioned, grinning. He eyed up the naked beauty on his couch, and noticed the white paste on his flushed skin and his marroon hazer shirt.

"What's that stuff? And why are you wearing my hazer shirt?"

Arthit moved from sitting on his hands to having them folded in his lap, trying to cover his flagging erection, and finally met Kongpob's incredulous gaze.

"I can explain. Honestly, I can P'kong. What happened was..."

🌸 TWO HOURS EARLIER 🌸

Arthit let himself into Kongpob's house a little over cautiously considering his boyfriend wouldn't be home for at least another five hours. Under his arm he carried a bag of the things he'd need eggs, milk, butter, sugar, vanilla, flour.

Arthit had never even attempted something like this before, but he had seen Rome do it enough times, how hard could it be?

Squeezing his tight schedule and having a relationship for five years was easy enough, so this, Arthit chuckled to himself, should be a piece of cake.

He settled himself in Kongpob's kitchen. A mess, he noted and started looking for the correct equipment.

A large bowl, check, but dirty. Some scale check, but dusty as hell. Cutlery and mixing tools plenty around, mostly in a dirty pile in the sink.

Arthit sighed and rolled up the sleeves of his black sweater, and began washing them all up.

That idiot had better be grateful... I'm making him a cake and cleaning his kitchen.

Still, at the end of it he'd get to eat cake, so that was something. After washing and drying all the things he'd need, Arthit began sifting and combining the batter for the sponge part of the cake in a big bowl, and gazed out of the window by the sink, suddenly wishing Kongpob would come home.

He wondered if he was as big a part of Kongpob's life as Kongpob was in his. Or if he just thought he was a stubborn stupid junior.

And cake baking and kitchen cleaning and who knows what else he'd be willing to do.

No. Kongpob isn't like that he's a good man. He wouldn't do something like that. He may be an idiot, but... he's my idiot.

The air of the Bangkok high society whistled through an open window, chilling Arthit's exposed arms as he tried to squash and beat the hard butter into the egg yolk. The non stop rain for the past few days making it chillier.

It was getting a little cold, and Arthit hadn't brought any warmer clothes with him. He put down the bowl and the spoon on a side surface and paced around, looking for something to wear, before wandering into Kongpob's bedroom.

It was a lot tidier than the kitchen, a few books and pens littered on top of the messily folded away futon and... yass!

In a corner of the cupboard, Arthit found Kongpob's old hazer uniform. Hanging all in it's glory away from rest of his shirts. He loved when Kongpob wore that. The man looks sexy as hell. He missed seeing his hazer.

Perfect.

Arthit picked it up and wore it before going back into the kitchen to continue his baking.

The cake mix was almost ready to go into the oven, if he could just find a baking tin, and the frosting just needed a splash more vanilla and... hmm?

Arthit took a deep, shuddering breath in and his whole world seemed to intensify, and heat itself somehow.

He could smell. He could swear he smelt- sex?

No, not sex. Kongpob. He could smell Kongpob. It was the uniform. It smelled of Kong, hot and dark and tangy, like sand and leather and tangerine. It flooded his senses and filled his mind's eye with images.

Images of big hands, rough lips, soft hair, wet tongues...

Arthit involuntarily shivered a little. The sensation of Kongpob's skin on his, the taste of his skin, how it felt to suck and lick on those long neck, to lave the sweat from his gleaming, muscular-

The bowl of frosting Arthit had been fervently whisking clattered to his feet, the impact sending globs of smooth, vanilla goo splattering all over him. It would seem his hands were too clammy to hold the mixing bowl properly.

He flinched at the sticky frosting colliding with his skin, but was too caught up in his reverie to really care. He was rock hard, and the maroon shirt around him just wasn't helping.

Maybe, if he'd been a bit less aroused, feeling less tingly and hot and primal, it would have been the shirt that Arthit removed, calmed down a little and finished making Kongpob's birthday cake.

But that wasn't the way it transpired, and as Arthit took out his sweater and placed it over the back of the couch in the living room and started pulling down his his pants together with his boxer, not forgetting to wear the hazer shirt back on his now naked skin, he distantly hoped that after relieving himself now he'd be ready again for Kongpob's birthday fuck later.

"So you got yourself all horny from sniffing my shirt? I'm not gonna lie, that's a little weird."

"Shut up!"

"Oh well. At least it wasn't my underwear, I guess."

"Shut your damn mouth!"

"Hey! Don't get so upset, Oon!"

Kongpob sat down next to the still naked boy and grinned wolfishly at him.

"You were gonna make me a cake? Aren't you cute Oon."

"Yeah, I was- But I'm not cute!"

"Sure you're not. Hang on a second."

Arthit watched as the tanned man got up and walked through into the kitchen and rummaged for something, and then returned triumphant. He blinked up at him, confused before,

Ohh, fuck!

Kongpob was holding the bowl of frosting and the whisk.

"What are you-"

Arthit's next words were muffled by three fingers covered in vanilla buttercream being stuffed into his mouth, forcefully but lovingly.

No, thought Kongpob, birthdays aren't so bad at all. If he gets to have his Oon like this!