yeah I mean you knew what you were doing when you sent me this.
link
video description: khaotung has his hand around Joong's shoulder, leans in then kisses the air by his cheek before pulling away. Joong looks...the way he looks. I feel like the crusades can be started anew over what emotion he's expressing in this moment.
[PG-13; Joongkhaotung; a light bathroom tumble]
“Hey!”
Joong traps Khaotung between himself and the sink where Khaotung was washing his hands, and takes a hold of his jaw, turns his face back a little to catch the beginnings of a shit-eating grin. He catches it between his teeth, nips lightly at Khaotung’s plump bottom lip and waits for Khaotung to pull himself free so they can come back together for a more passionate kiss, Joong's fingers pressed into the pulse at Khaotung's throat.
Joong licks past Khaotung’s lips, playfully traces his palate and feels Khaotung shudder against him. Khaotung pushes him just enough so he can turn around, back against the marble top and Joong can feel his knees buckle from how needy he looks already, hands coming across Joong’s shoulders to pull him back in.
Joong growls against his lips, partly in frustration, partly because he’s so, so turned on. He doesn’t think he’s actually locked the bathroom - hadn’t meant for it to come this far - but he can’t bear to part from Khaotung in this moment, dives into his neck to take a deep inhale of his scent; pungent with the sweat pooling against his skin mixed with his mild woodsy perfume, delicate but masculine.
Khaotung sighs so delectably that Joong naturally pulls Khaotung’s tucked shirt loose, chasing the melody of Khaotung’s whimpers, the shuddering tempo of his breath as Joong caresses his bare heated skin.
Khaotung pulls Joong urgently back to his lips, tongue diving desperately into his open, panting mouth as they slowly rut against each other. The rhythm between them builds, slowly forgetting that they’re still in the middle of work. Joong had snuck out after Khaotung when he had excused himself, really only intending to enact some light punishment for the stunt he had pulled earlier.
“I know what you are doing.” Joong pants against Khaotung’s jaw, nearly losing his mind anew at the way Khaotung’s back arches from Joong’s heated breath hitting his skin.
“And what are you doing?” Khaotung bites back, drawing attention to the way Joong is pulling at the buckle of his belt but not necessarily stopping him. Joong raises an eyebrow at him in a challenge, as he frees the end of the belt from the buckle. Joong moves back in slowly, kisses the corner of Khaotung’s mouth and then his lips, tests his luck then pulls the belt free of the loops in one swift motion, a momentary sliding pressure against Khaotung’s.
Khaotung gasps, unbelievably turned on, ready to tear Joong’s shirt off him, pulling it loose urgently. Joong’s phone rings, shrill and insistent, startling them out of their trance. Joong jumps back, latching onto his one moment of clarity to get some space between them. Joong looks up when Khaotung chuckles. Khaotung turns his screen so that Joong can see the notification for the three missed calls.
Joong lets out a long breathe, calming himself down, “Fuck.” He says, tucking his shirt back in, he already knows he has to sheepishly go back to the hairstylist and beg for forgiveness, “I nearly fucked you in this bathroom.”
Khaotung looks up at him, suddenly embarrassed and hides his face in his hands, “I nearly let you.”
Nani!! Why are you always edging joong? Please give him a happy ending or make him a part of throuple fic please.
Absolutely SCALPED anon. I've been releasing my WIPs because I didn't want them to die a dark death in my google docs. Not a single joongkhao. And there's SO MANY WIPS. All my joongkhao is in fact just firstkhao with extra steps HAAHAHAHAHA
Anyway, freshly written just for you:
[Joongkhao; Mature; Central Park Date]
Summary: Joong and Khaotung go on an early morning run in Central Park.
“P’Khaotung~~” Joong whines behind him, “how much longer must we be on this “run” without actually running?”
Khaotung ignores him, instead his attention caught on a bird that just landed on the most magnificent tree. The moment fills him with a little jolt of pleasant surprise. He grabs his phone - regrets not bringing his camera - to take a few photos.
They’re blurrier than he’d like, but there’s one of the moment the bird takes flight, barely more than a red smudge. But Khaotung likes it, it’s dynamic, alive almost. When he’s paying attention again Joong is taking photos of him.
“Oi~~I didn’t ask you to do that.”
“Your fans can thank me later.” Joong says pouting. Khaotung snorts, “You know you could have just run on your own and come back.” His heart pounds a little, still unused to the prospect of getting to do this in public. He takes Joong’s hand, “I’d still be here, waiting for you.”
It has the desired effect of flustering Joong, who squeezes his hand sheepishly and says, “I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Oh? Then you are.”
Joong looks back at him perplexed, like he’s not sure if Khaotung is serious. He shifts closer to Khaotung and lowers his voice, but his thumb rubs against the palm of his hand suggestively, “Not like this. It’s 7am. I thought you weren’t a morning person?”
“Not in Thailand it isn’t,” Khaotung says, then takes their joined hands and pulls Joong along with him, “But I do have a little surprise for you.” They walk for a long while without Joong really knowing where they are going. He seems satisfied with the fact that they seem to be moving instead of staring at wild blueberries for fifteen minutes, more so with the fact that they’ve held hands the whole time.
They finally come to a stop and it’s a particularly lush part of the park, with generous bushes and trees, “Well?” Joong says when Khaotung doesn’t elaborate.
“According to the internet, this used to be and still is a popular gay cruising spot.”
“Phi-I don’t think I can do a foursome this early, I really just want to hold–”
Khaotung clicks his tongue, “Just shut up.” He says and then they’re being pulled into what Joong can only describe as an otherworldly alcove, with towering bushes around them. Khaotung throws him a mischievous little grin before pushing him against the nearest tree and getting down on his knees.
Khaotung would want to have sex within the immense interconnectedness of the queer struggle surrounding them. What Joong didn’t know until the moment that Khaotung wrapped his lips around him was that, apparently, so did he. It feels incredible, being able to do this, outside with his boyfriend where so many stories of love have unfolded. Khaotung’s mouth is a heavenly heat, moving around him, well versed in the way to pleasure him.
Khaotung loves the uninhibited way that Joong grabs at him, fingers threading through his hair, gripping tight, hips moving as though against his will, threatening to choke Khaotung. Khaotung takes a deep breath then moves down as far he can go; swallows.
Joong’s mouth goes slack around a shuddering quiet moan as he comes down his throat, looking thoroughly fucked and even more thoroughly embarassed at how fast he had come.
“Fuck,” Khaotung says, panting, streaks of come and sweat painting his lips and mouth, “That was hot.” Followed by a cheery, “My turn.”
[FirstKhao, JoongKhao (background); Take Me Home; NC-17]
Summary: Khaotung runs into his ex at a work party
Note: I wrote this fic 2 weeks after my breakup because I'm a pathetic loser. This is NOT the place for shipping discourse because that is not what this is about at all.
Note2: RATINGS HAVE CHANGED!!!!!! Also there is infidelity.
Khaotung always reaches a point in the evening where it gets to be a bit much. There was a time that Joong didn’t really get that, he’d get really worried that Khaotung was not enjoying himself then get fussy about it, always trying to help or cheer him up, or declare they need to leave. But really, Khaotung could be having the best time of his life and well, sometimes he still just needed a breath to himself.
Joong gets that now, and he can’t help the little bloom of fondness in his chest when Joong takes one look at his face, kisses him on the cheek and lets go of his arm. Joong continues the conversation they were in, drawing all attention towards him so Khaotung could make his escape. He makes his way to one of the balconies attached to the ballroom, the smallest one at the very corner, one that’s unlikely to be used.
He walks in and snorts a laugh, there’s a figure there leaning on the balcony and looking out into the gardens.
He can really only see the figure from the back, but it’s a figure he would recognize anywhere; from just a silhouette, from the cut of his suit and the breadth of his back, the way he cocks his hips or taps his foot. It’s a body he knows well, one his eyes have secretly followed all night just out of habit, stray curiosity borne out of the convenience of being at the same party.
Of course, of course First is here, exactly where Khaotung was trying to run away from him, exactly, always in Khaotung’s path, as though there is only one place where Khaotung can run towards–
They’re at this party together, on this balcony, perhaps, even by chance. Khaotung closes the door behind him.The click gets First’s attention who turns around and cocks one eyebrow - and then - he smiles.
Khaotung releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding; flooding with relief. Things between them were never bad, even at the end there was a lot of love but it ended and First had, First had been incredibly sad - Khaotung doesn’t know how he could ever deal with First’s hatred.
First turns back around to look at the view and a lump forms in Khaotung’s throat anew as he approaches him. Khaotung forgot that he doesn’t know what First’s smiles mean anymore, hadn’t for a long time. He keeps a polite distance between them when he joins First at the railing, it’s thick, made of stone, Khaotung leans forward on his elbows just like First.
“I should have guessed I’d find you here,” Khaotung says.
First looks at him softly and says, “You taught me that it was okay,” and Khaotung wishes he could stop First from looking at him, from desperately wanting First’s eyes on him, “To take a minute for myself.” First finishes.
“Oh, then. I guess I should find a different hiding place then.”
“No. it’s okay.’ First says, flashes him a toothy grin and for a second Khaotung is terrified that it will be First who walks out of the balcony, making some excuse about how he’s fine now and Khaotung should use the privacy to decompress, “You’re not in the way.” He finishes.
Khaotung wants to know if First means it in the way that it is for him. That Khaotung can’t conceive a single hiding place in the world for himself where First isn’t also invited. He wants to ask, is aching to know the answer whether they’re the same, whether they’re still on the same page and his throat burns from the memory of the time where he never needed to think about what was okay to say to First.
Khaotung pulls a pack of smokes from his pocket, flips it open so First can see inside. First leans over to take a peek and giggles when he sees it contains Khaotung’s home rolled joints.
“Really, ‘Tung? You want to light up here?” He says, still smiling, wrapping the ‘Tung’ in his mouth with the exasperated fondness that grounds Khaotung; tells him that everything is alright, that ‘Tung’ is more than just sadness or disappointment for First. Khaotung shrugs with a playful expression, “Like you’re not going to join me.”
First makes a sputtering noise in his throat, like he still somehow has space to be surprised at Khaotung’s audacity as Khaotung puts a joint between his lips and pulls his lighter out.
“What if someone walks in on us?” First says, turning nervously back towards the door. First truly always was the entirety of his impulse control. Khaotung manages to light it up after a few shaky clicks of his lighter, the heat around his fingers a sharp contrast to the cool breeze of the night. He takes a long puff of it, attributes the way his hand shakes when he holds it out to First, to the lightheadedness caused by the smoke.
“I locked the door.”
First’s expression when he takes the joint from him is unreadable, their fingers tangling just so for the briefest of seconds.
~
Sandwiched between the noise and chatter of the party from behind the doors of the balcony and the silence of the crickets in the night ahead of them, Khaotung wishes to stay here forever in this in-between place where First giggles next to him, shoulder to shoulder, uninhibitedly.
He’s teetering on the edge, has been flirting with letting all inhibitions go - First is explaining something funny that happened on set or some such other place - and Khaotung just wants to press his face into First’s arm, a place to rest the heat on his cheeks. First’s hand comes around to brush the hair off Khaotung’s forehead, pressing his fingers against his temples before he’s really thought it through and Khaotung is emboldened to inch closer still, slide his cheeks up the slope of First’s shoulder until his nose is right up in against the crook of his neck, brushing every so slightly against his bare skin, enough to fill Khaotung’s head with a madness that pushes everything out of focus.
“Tung’, why did you lock the door?” First sounds aloof, distant but Khaotung can feel how tense he is, they’re so close that First can’t hide anymore.
And neither can Khaotung.
Khaotung crashes into his lips, an awkward press into his teeth before First has had time to fully move into the kiss. But oh- when First finally pulls him in, clutching desperately at his waist as he gives in to Khaotung, opens his mouth - Khaotung feels his whole world spin, consequences melting away around him. Their tongues tangle and Khaotung chases that taste with a hunger that is his only reality; a yearning that is his only destination.
First’s back hits the wall and Khaotung can finally press into him, rabid; a creature that only knows to chase and move against the heat of First’s hands desperately scrabbling at his shirt, so he can untuck it and slide his hands up Khaotung’s back, lighting a fire against his skin, cooling and easing the cloying feeling in his chest.
In response to your tags in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/fadelbison/778627631266562048
*puts on my circus outfit* Why do I feel like this would be how they announce any relationship developments? Like they both continue to tell the same sweet story of an outing they had (potentially of seeing the Northern Lights?) multiple times over the span of many months, reiterating it again and again with few changes.
Then, at one event Khaotung as he's telling the story, adds an extra sentence: "Then First became my boyfriend" (or proposed/moved in)
And, like the audience is kind of shocked caused he dropped it so casually and First barely reacted either, and the MC was too shocked that the event continued on as normal. Then FK drop all their outing/Iceland photos including them with either matching rings or kissing on the cheek and calling each other boyfriend.
Then they go down silent for 3 months.
The fandom is in ruin!! 😂😂😂
Honestly, I have no wish to even think about what fandom would do lol never anything good. but I am endlessly charmed by your scenario. It's like: 5 Times Khaotung Says He Wants To Go To Iceland with First + 1 Time He Did 🤣. Now that Kt has gone back to acting like the only place First belongs is in a shrine in his basement - or maybe that's just the Japanese air - I bring you a Kt that I think will in five years from this point in the story do exactly that, propose to First in Iceland then just casually slip it in in a fan interview that will end before anyone else can get their bearings and he can whisk his bf away from the sea of dropped jaws in triumph
[FirstKhaotung PG-13]
Summary: In a quiet, cool night in Japan, Khaotung tells First abut everything that he's ever wanted.
---
“It’s not enough for me.” Khaotung tries saying into the cool breeze of a Japanese night. It’s somehow easier here, even though he is here for work as well, but far away from the magnitude of everything he owes to this career it’s somehow easier to admit that a part of him exists that deeply resents it.
First goes still next to him. It’s funny to Khaotung that he can feel it all the way from here, sitting on a completely different lounge chair. When he turns to look at First, he is already looking at him like he’s trying to study the lines on his face. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look too anxious.
“This relationship?” First says jokingly, raising his eyebrows in exaggerated alarm. Khaotung snorts and rolls his eyes. It’s always nice looking at First, always nice to see him smile, to see him blink even, but right now like this where everything outside this bubble feels irrelevant, Khaotung feels it so deeply - how nice it is to be with First.
“I want to hold your hand.” He says wistfully. First reaches out and tangles their fingers together, Khaotung clicks his tongue but doesn’t let go, he rests his head against the back of his chair still turned towards First.
“Me too.” First says softly, like he’s voicing a well guarded secret, “I want to kiss you.” He adds, like he's sharing his most darkest thought.
Khaotung is perhaps a little surprised.
He forgets sometimes, because First doesn’t show his burdens often; always ready to cheer people up and see the bright side of things, so ready to accept that the only cherry blossoms they’d get to see on this trip are the ones they had to pose with. He remembers feeling a flash of irritation at First’s bright smile as he held a fallen petal up to Khaotung’s hair and said, “These are plenty beautiful, don’t you think?” But–
Khaotung shuffles over to First’s lounger and hates that he can’t help but check, as though on reflex, that they’re alone. He kisses First; an easy, practiced slide of lips, a home to find comfort. First’s arms around him makes him feel secure, eases the worries pressed right up against his throat. His hands sliding up Khaotung’s back, a reminder that there’s not much more that he could want from First, really. It took years to even hope - let alone believe - that he could have this.
First underneath him, solid, steady, real, lips glistening with Khaotung’s spit.
First, who wants to cheer him up at the cost of hiding his own pain, fingers practiced in the patterns that soothe Khatung’s ache the best. First, who he’s seen in puffy jackets and shivering from the cold, but not yet with flecks of snow in his lashes and the expanse of an aurora that already lives within him to be reflected in his eyes; the press of cracked, cold lips against each other. First, who fills every moment to the brim with happiness. First, who’s tears feel like a dagger in his heart.
There’s enough, enough, enough, overspilling in abundance. But–
It's First, who's smile, Khaotung knows, is his final destination.
thank you! and everyone's nice messages and prayers have really worked because I bring to you the next chapter of my little mermaid AU!!!! I am sorry for giving a crab angst but it's first!!! I'm not sure that carcinization can really stop him from angsting.
Prince identity reveal under the cut!!!
part 3 of the FK Little Mermaid AU
Part1 Part2
After what is probably the first time since Khaotung started this madness, First dreams.
Beautiful ones, from when he was a larvae, growing up in the palace; amidst its grand kelp topiaries and rare underwater coral gardens, on display everyday like commonplace things; swimming, claw in hand with Khaotung amidst them. Everything was carefree, the water around them shining bright with the endless possibilities of the future - Khaotung’s hand always within reach.
The dream breaks with a cacophony of noise and the door of Khaotung’s room being flung open after a few polite knocks. A hoard of attendants come in, whisks Khaotung away for his bath scented with oils and, leaving him with a hoard of accessories and a smart looking suit with glittering lapels for when he’s done. With every passing moment dinner starts feeling less and less casual, flirty and fun.
Khaotung does look happier as he is bathing though, having been immediately put into a grumpy mood when his nap was interrupted. Joong swims amidst the bubbles, pushing globs of them towards Khaotung who pops them amidst little giggles. First watches them, from the side of the tub, one claw brushing against the water.
He misses the sound - of Khaotung’s laughter - didn’t think that Khaotung even spoke enough to miss it. But when he’s completely silent like this, it really highlights how his voice is a symphony of sounds, of frustrated grunts and coaxing whines, petulant grumbles and cute begging. First aches to hear the way Khaotung’s lips mouth the frustrated little ‘Fiirrrr’ when First splashes him and Khaotung turns towards him, indignant, with a generous splish of his own.
This curse…it has to break.
First hops off the side of the tub and claws at the accessories laid out. Khaotung has to look his best, his most enticing. A sudden splash grabs his attention and First turns to see Khaotung’s head thrown back in laughter, as Joong animatedly tells him a story.
As he picks through the earrings and bracelets and chains the prince’s staff had left them with, First focuses on the image of those crinkled eyes and parted lips; the anticipation of hearing that sound again makes the bitter way his heart breaks at what that means, sweet.
*
“Now announcing, His Royal Highness Prince Earth Pirapat Watthanasetsiri and his Fair Companion-” The announcer abruptly stops like he wasn’t expecting the announcement on his sheet to just end at “Fair Companion”. But no one really has time to care because a fair companion Khaotung surely does make, arm in arm with the prince, in their matching outfits, Khaotung decked in simple accessories that only serve to highlight the brightness of his eyes and the soft dusting of blush on his cheeks.
First looks on proudly, as hey stride into the ballroom where First thinks that genuinely an intimate gathering is meant to be taking place - which of course for any royal court is at least fifty people. When Khaotung had complained that he didn’t want a huge part for the entire world to attend his 18th birthday, the shortest they could get that guest list down to was 135 people.
Khaotung fits right in though, from what First can see from his place inside the ballroom aquarium with Joong and a few other fishes Joong is already busy making friends with. First watches anxiously as the music for the first dance starts. They had practiced. They really had, but First hadn’t really thought so far ahead after the swamp date so maybe they hadn’t practiced too hard, Khaotung mostly going over it in his head while First pirouetted for him in demonstration. But First has too many legs and Joong too few so they hadn’t really gotten very far. He’s not sure if Khaotung really knows the steps, even though Khaotung had rolled his eyes and gone to bed with an expression that First knows is usually accompanied by, “I got it, Fir. You don’t have to fuss.”
The music starts, the wall lights go dim until the light of the candles around them shines through. Khaotung takes the hand that the Prince offers and gets into position. They dance, graceful and sweet, moving around each other with a familiar ease. What Khaotung lacks in dancing talent he makes up for in charm, whenever he bumps into Prince Earth, they both have a sweet little giggle about it.
Obviously, Prince Earth wouldn’t complain about it, First notes glumly that he’s taking every shot Khaotung lets him at squeezing at his bicep or the sweetly perfect curves of his waist. By the time the dance ends, Khaotung and the Prince are deeply looking into each other's eyes, fingers tangled in a way that flirts with scandal. But no matter how romantic dancing inside the ballroom got, it’s not feasible to think the curse could ever break here. Not when it’s not possible to kiss.
The night starts winding down and maybe First is starting to feel a little stressed. He’s almost ready to climb out and go pinch Khaotung’s ankle so that Prince Earth can stop schmoozing and pay his beautiful date some attention, he hears a faint-
“-niiiiiii-chan! O-niiiiii-chaaaaan.” He looks out the window and there he is, Pond hopping up and down outside, waving his arms above his head to get First’s attention. There are some fireflies glimmering behind him and oh how could First forget his own plans.
He makes a big splash in the aquarium, which earns him several dirty looks but also causes Khaotung to turn his head sharply towards him. Which is what he wanted. He points to his head, flaps his claws at his face and then pretends to faint. Khaotung looks at him for a few puzzled moments before he gets what First is miming, takes a position close to the prince then swoons. Prince Earth notices when Khaotung’s hand hits his bicep, and he turns just in time to heroically grab Khaotung into his arms before Khaotung can fall to the ground.
He looks graceful in the prince’s arms, eyes glinting up at him through hooded lids as he fans at his face. There are cries about the heat and then someone mentions the cool breeze outside. Suddenly, Prince Earth lifts Khaotung into his arms, bridal style. The shock of suddenly getting picked up startles Khaotung so much that he nearly gives the game away by flailing out of the hold. He does settle down quickly after the first moment of shock, clinging to Prince Earth’s shoulders demurely as he carries Khaotung towards the doors that lead out to the garden.
That’s his cue.
First jumps out of the aquarium while the room is still turned towards the door, to gawk at the romantic scene, then grabs a glass of wine and holds it up to the mouth of the aquarium.
“Hop in, nong. Mission “Kiss The Girl” is about to commence”
It has been such a while since ive said this but!! ask and you shall receive!!!!!! Flounder reveal under the cut. But can you really not guess ^^'
NOW you guys should guess who the prince is
Part 2 of FirstKhao Little Mermaid AU
Part1
The date was - to say the least - unsalvageable after that point. Khaotung pushes the boat towards the shore and climbs off, First still laid out across his forearms. Khaotung hands a handkerchief to the prince, more a gesture than anything else, since he’s covered in mud up to his waist. The prince smiles and dabs at his face. Khaotung frowns and stares intensely at his chest, like he’s upset that the prince has chosen not to take his shirt off.
Honestly, First thinks that these two should have just started there but he supposes, a true love’s kiss has to be momentous; special, maybe even grand.
They ride back together, the prince courteous as ever jumps down first to give Khaotung a hand, kissing it gently once Khaotung is safely down on the ground. First sees Khaotung’s face crack into a giddy looking smile.
“Oh, so you did get a new pet!” The prince exclaims when he sees him. Khaotung’s smile only gets bigger as he excitedly pulls First out.
“Oi!!!!! I’m not your pet!!!” First yells and watches a devilish little smile come across Khaotung’s face as he silently giggles and the prince too looks thoroughly charmed at First seemingly just snapping his claws and bobbing angrily.
“I’ll see you for dinner after I clean up?” The prince asks and both First and Khaotung nod enthusiastically. Maybe their second chance at this might come sooner than he’d thought. Kissing at night is way better, there’s darkness and mood lighting, maybe an after dinner stroll through the palace gardens where it's less wet and musty - he can ask Pond to bring some of his firefly friends - that feels pretty darn grand.
Grand enough for a true love’s kiss, even.
Which is good, that their spirits are significantly more up by the time they get back to Khaotung’s room, because as soon as the door starts creaking open, there’s excited little splashes and a cheerful bellow of, “P’Firrr!! P’Khaotung!!!! How did it goooooooooooooooo?” Joong is swimming excitedly in his little aquarium, splashing his tail from side to side in his excitement.
Khaotung shakes his head as they enter, First finally hopping out of the indignant position of being carried. He can scurry just fine, thank you very much. But humans don’t take too kindly at the sight of a crab on the loose so he has to tolerate it sometimes
“Oh no! What went wrong? Was the prince boring?” Joong says nearly jumping out of the aquarium in solidarity with Khaotung’s angst, “But it still went well? Of course it did! Who can help but love P’Khaotung. P’Khaotung can have anyone he wants. He’s the best.” Joong says, working up into a worry and calming down all on his own. Which is for the best, since Khaotung can’t talk anyway and First doesn’t want to announce that it was his fault.
“It was all my fault.” First says after a few minutes of not being able to take the guilt, “They had nearly kissed.” Khaotung shakes his head emphatically then mouths, “Fir did well,” at them with a little thumbs up, headed with a purpose towards the soft looking bed with its abundance of soft looking pillows. He opens his mouth as though he’s making a satisfied little “Ahhh~~~” sound when his back hits the bed
“Why didn’t it happen?” Joong finally says after circling around the aquarium once, “What could P’Fir have done?” Joong gasps like he’s suddenly realizing something. “Did P’Fir finally confess?”
First nearly launches straight up into the sky with how suddenly he jumps into the aquarium tackling Joong. They tussle for a bit with Joong flapping his fins in alarm while First desperately gets a claw over his mouth. “HA HA HA.” First laughs emphatically, as he floats in the water, swirling and twirling while Joong still struggles to break free, “confess how UGLY I think the castle is. HA! HA!”
But First needn’t have bothered, which he discovers when his rambling is interrupted by one quiet little snore. Khaotung is already curled up in bed, over the blankets, sleeping. First hops out of the aquarium and shakes the water off him; heart pounding with how casually Joong nearly gave his secret away.
First sighs in relief when he approaches Khaotung and confirms that he’s peacefully asleep. First tries not to linger on how lovely Khaotung looks like this; face slack and without the little furrow between his eyebrows that keeps getting deeper the closer they inch towards the witch’s deadline.
They have at least an hour until dinner, he figures Khaotung can have at least half an hour of respite, First climbs up onto Khaotung’s pillow, then settles down somewhere above his head, resting against the soft pillowy strands of Khaotung’s hair.
Yes, they can definitely afford a half hour’s respite, First thinks as he too drifts off to sleep.
okay anon I KNOW you were talking more about the ribcage stuff than the - umm - the little mermaid parallel but hear me out.
I said they were Ariel and Flounder and well I was wrong. While Khaotung is exactly the type of person who would suffer a witches curse just to fuck a hot guy, I think any self respecting FK fan with an ounce of honestly will admit that First is obviously Sebastian.
Anyway here's a little FK Little Mermaid AU crackfic and yes you read that correctly this is absolutely a crab!first and mermaid!khaotung fic 🤣 there's also a guest star cricket! Enjoy!
-----
First claws onto a log, regains his balance and checks that Khaotung’s little rowboat is still within sight somewhere ahead. He’s not feeling super happy at Khaotung after he had so unceremoniously tossed him into the river. But, it’s not like he can just let Khaotung suffer the consequences of the witches curse because he was too shy to actually flirt with the prince. Besides, First knows that Khaotung had just panicked when the prince had startled seeing Khaotung staring intensely at a crab and jokingly asked him if he was going to adopt First as a pet.
Pet!!!! First can’t believe the audacity. He’s the advisor to the King, he is Khaotung’s guardian.
And as Khaotung’s guardian, First scurries as fast as his little legs will carry him, to catch up to the boat. He tries to take the slow rowing as a good sign that the prince is trying to prolong their romantic ride through the swamp. But the closer he gets, the more obvious it is that Khaotung is just sitting and twiddling his thumbs. Given that Khaotung would much rather be home listening to cool music, First is not surprised this swamp date isn’t going well.
Once he’s caught up to the boat, it's easier to keep up with it but he hardly knows how he should convey to the prince that the different species of algae is not the best date conversation material. Actually, First knows that Khaotung would love to hear about algae but Khaotung can’t talk and so he can’t ask any questions and the prince is certainly not covering any of the interesting things about the algae, like whether or not you can make a bouncy house out of algae underwater (you cannot they will spread out like dandelion petals in the wind).
It’s while he’s deep in thought that he runs into a cricket, “Onii-chan!” The cricket recognizes him and breaks out into a big smile, “Onii-chan! Onii-chan!” the cricket chirps.
“Ah! Pond!” I’m a little busy right now.” First says, but then immediately undercuts his own haughty stride by staring sullenly at the drifting boat.
“Watcha doing, onii-chan? If you’re into voyeurism, let me tell you already! Nothing will happen between them. The quiet one hasn’t said a single word.”
“That’s not–” He really doesn’t have time to explain the parameters of Khaotung’s curse right now, “You were with them?”
“Yes! Pond was in the boat!! But Pond got bored. There’s no music that Pond can dance to.”
Even this cricket knows that dates need music. Why can’t this stupid prince- wait if Pond dances then–
“Wait, Pond! Can you play music?” First asks
Pond hops up and down excitedly, ‘Sure Pond can!”
“Oh my god!” First takes hold of the cricket and swings him around, “We can save this date yet!!! Pond!!! Play your music”
Pond chirps happily for a bit and hops excitedly when First finally puts him down. Just as he’s about to ask where his music box is, Pond stands very still, opens his mouth and starts screaming.
First is startled by the volume and his heart sinks, that he foolishly trusted this unserious cricket but then miraculously, more crickets start screaming, he can hear the faint clicking of rocks and splish splash of water and suddenly the forest comes alive with the symphony of it’s creatures. He sees Khaotung stir, the prince too is looking around in wonder.
First scurries after the boat again, Pond running after him still screaming. First picks up a broad looking leaf and starts playing the flute on it, harmonizing with the gentle sounds of the swamp. The prince moves closer to Khaotung now so that they’re sitting on the same side both, looking around them in wonder, hearts beating and fingers slowly tangling between them.
Unfortunately chaste handholding was NOT part of the contract so First stops playing to sprint ahead of the boat, scuttling up a vine so he can perch on a branch and starts playing in earnest, the most heartfelt romantic music he’s learned in his life. He watches Khaotung melt a little and lean against the prince who has a shy smile on his face. First blows on that leaf with a gusto he didn’t know his lungs could carry.
“Onii-chan!!,” Pond yells, “Fireflies!!!! The fireflies are awake!” And amidst the sweet soft sound of flutes, and tittering of birds and the chirping of crickets the whole swamp lights up, in little sparkles like the stars have descended amidst them.
The prince and Khaotung are really close now, nearly huddled, First sees the prince’s hand moved from Khaotung’s shoulder to the back of his neck. Pond is staring intently at the sight below and First too, is a little curious, and the sounds around them taper off as though the whole swamp is waiting with baited breath for the two lovers to finally take that step.
They’re very close now, almost underneath them and First too has stopped playing to see the climax of the show.
“Shit!” First’s two front legs topple from leaning over too far and he’s unable to stop himself from freefalling off the branch, down and down. He collides with something soft, but not wet. There’s a loud yell and a lot of rocking. He’s quickly grabbed by someone, the prince teetering for a few dramatic seconds before he’s fallen into the river with a spectacular splash.
Khaotung is in the boat, looking over the edge in concern as a sludge covered prince trudges out of the water, First tucked safely in Khaotung’s arms.
“Sorry,” He mouths up at Khaotung, who shakes his head and pats First on the head reassuringly.
Sometimes having horrible memory is rereading whispered secrets for the fourth time and still being deeply affected like wow wow Wow what , mmm delicious, this is spectacular. Special shoutout to my guy “Do you ditch your friends to come see me?” “Don’t do it again”, he makes my kidney want to jump out each time without fail
not an ask I have things to say ت
well anon you seem to have struck a moment of some potential energy in need of a motivating push. I promise I am writing the epilogue however, it is still one (1) page long kzdfjskdfh. I'll get there, they will have minor disagreements and some honest communication and then romantic sappy sex. there is even an outline!!!!
BUT I have unearthed some whispered secrets never before seen goodies. These are scrapped scenes from earlier drafts of the story. By earlier draft I mean the draft of chapter 3 that was written before the first episode aired or sometime that week according to my draft revision dates lol and boy does it seem like I was going wild places with this lol
I think I should update to AO3 but I am too scared of people being mad at me for not updating the epilogue djfsfhglfjgh
There are two scene here under the cut for now:
Scene 1:
This is the exact start of the current chapter three through to the end of their first time and of them hanging out at the balcony. I put this here in full because SO much of it is similar that I had to pull up the published chapter and compare to be like why did I even bother changing these little details? But re-reading the whole thing I think I get why, curious as to what you think since you just read it
----
Kid: Mister, can I come over?
Alan finds the message odd. Be it the hour, the lack of frills or that Kaipa has never initiated a meetup - always so happy to wait for him - but Alan can tell that this is a request he should fulfill.
It’s not even a full ten minutes after he responds with a ‘yes’ that there is a soft double knock at the front door. For a second, he’s worried that Wen has returned home but remembers that Wen would just use his key. Alan opens the door.
It’s Kaipa, standing in front of him in a way he hasn’t seen since the first night they met. Eyes vacant in the remnants of a storm that’s been through them, leaving them red and puffy. The tip of his nose is red like he’s been rubbing on it and his hair crumpled like he’s been pulling at it.
He moves back so Kaipa can walk in. Kaipa has been here before on multiple occasions, anytime really that Wen was scheduled to be away overnight, so he trusts that Kaipa can find his way inside while he locks the front door.
But when he turns Kaipa is still standing there, not even having taken off his sandals, looking at him intently.
‘What?’ Alan asks a little unsurely and Kaipa stays silent. He keeps looking at him for a few long moments before he is pushing Alan back against the door, pressing his body close and taking his lips in a kiss that can only be described as ferocious.
Alan cups Kaipa’s jaw and tries to control the pace, tries to bring them back from whatever seems to be building in Kaipa’s chest. But Kaipa only grips Alan’s wrists and the obstruction away from chasing his kisses, pushes it against the door behind them.
Unable to calm Kaipa down through his kisses, Alan finally puts his free hand on Kaipa’s chest and pushes firmly. Kaipa moves away from him, his eyes still closed and brows furrowed, his fingers still curled tight around Alan’s wrist.
When he opens his eyes, it’s the anguish in them that shatters Alan first, ‘can’t you do it for one night?’ Alan is too scared to ask what he means and he hopes that Kaipa will take a hint from his silence and not elaborate, because he knows, he knows what people who look like that ask for.
Kaipa continues anyway, ‘love me.’
Sincere and straightforward to a fault.
Alan’s first instinct is to refuse but the truth is that he doesn’t know how. Alan’s heart feels like it’s caught in his throat, the rise and fall of his chest the only signs of it still beating. In the end, the silence stretches too long and Kaipa lowers his gaze, releasing Alan from the intensity of it just as he releases Alan’s wrist from his iron grip.
When Kaipa moves away, Alan feels the loss like a fresh wound. And perhaps what he really wants to say is: ‘I wish I knew how.’
He’s gripped by an impulse he forgot he possessed.
To hold on.
He turns them around so that it’s Kaipa pressed against the door, drinking in the frenzy of Alan’s kisses. Alan forgets the seams of where their bodies meet; Kaipa is pressed so close, with his grip so tight around him. His fingers dig into Alan’s back with a searing ache.
They part when their lungs start to burn and lips start going numb from being fused together too long. Even then, Alan only moves away just so, held close by Kaipa’s fingers gently scratching at the hairs on his nape, breaths mingling.
Kaipa finally starts, ‘can I-
‘-Yes.’ Alan responds before he can make the request.
Kaipa is surprised at being cut off, and even more so by the answer. Even though Kaipa manages to suppress his need to confirm with a disbelieving, ‘really?’, his eyes still dart down in pleased shyness.
Kaipa buries his face in the crook of Alan’s neck and takes a deep breath, ‘Alan,’ he whispers followed by a deep shuddering breath that reverberates through them. It brings about a release somewhere within Alan as well, unclenching just enough for Kaipa to take a peek inside.
Alan places a messy kiss on his temple, ‘Hmm?’
‘Can you take me to bed?’ Kaipa’s words are slow and careful as though he’s afraid someone will come and snatch them away.
Alan bends a little to tap on the back of Kaipa’s thigh, Kaipa gets the hint and hops into Alan’s arms, his legs wrapped tightly around Alan’s waist. Kaipa looks right at him, eyes tired but adoring, and Alan finds himself unable to look away, the attention oddly comforting as he carries Kaipa to bed.
Permitted within the fantasies of this one night, Alan pretends that it’s theirs, full of warmth and laughter instead of the cold emptiness it wraps him in every other night. Pretends that the joining of their bodies is an adequate proxy of the love that Kaipa seeks.
*
Later, they stand huddled next to each other on Alan’s balcony, sharing a cigarette and looking out at the skyline. Alan absently massages at Kaipa’s lower back. He apologizes softly when Kaipa winces but Kaipa only shakes his head and presses his nose to Alan’s jaw.
It has been a while for him and he might have gotten a little too excited, intoxicated by the sweetness of Kaipa’s kisses, the thrill of the little gasps breathed into his ear and the feeling of home between Kaipa’s legs that he hadn’t thought he would ever feel again. Alan had wanted to take and Kaipa had given it all up so sweetly.
Alan sees Kaipa’s lashes flicker quickly as he blinks and then trains that soft but intent gaze on Alan’s face, ‘do you love him?’ Kaipa asks curious, shivering like he can’t help himself, can’t hold back how much he wants to know. Alan wonders if he should draw the line here on the liberties that Alan will allow tonight.
‘I have never thought of my feelings for him as anything but love.’ Alan finally decides to say, he blames the way his head swims pleasantly in the nicotine rush for his undue honesty. Alan watches as Kaipa blinks again like he’s confused, then laughs. He presses his thumb on Alan’s cheek, rubs a line right at the bottom edge of his glasses, ‘you would do that,’ Kaipa says, ‘just decide to love a person like that.’
Alan is surprised at the comment, at the way Kaipa talks like he knows Alan. Alan doesn’t know when it could have happened but the familiar gentleness in Kaipa’s smile and the little hickey forming on his neck in the shape of Alan’s teeth, makes him think that Kaipa just might. Kaipa might know who he is.
‘Doesn’t mean I can,’ Alan replies and even though his voice doesn’t waver, it grates along the sharp edges of his fractured heart.
‘You can.’ Kaipa responds instantly like he always does when Alan says anything negative about himself. He trails his thumb down Alan’s sharp cheek until the pad of his thumb comes to rest softly at the corner of Alan’s lips, ‘you do.’ Voice quick and sure.
Of course Kaipa doesn’t know him.
He’s just like this.
Always so sincere. So ready to draw the silver lining.
Kaipa will say these things to anyone who stands before him feeling sorry for themselves. He enjoys Kaipa’s platitudes more this way, it comforts him that he doesn’t have to earn them even though it means they hold no value.
‘Doesn’t mean that he will love me back.’ Alan says around another drag of the cigarette.
Kaipa’s face falls suddenly, but only a little and just for a second before he turns it back up once more. It’s different Alan notes and once more he’s surprised that he knows this, that Kaipa has smiles that bare his heart out for the world to see and smiles that hide it.
‘But that isn’t the point, is it?’ Kaipa says. He takes the cigarette from Alan, takes a long drag and immediately starts coughing, Alan laughs, rubs his back. Kaipa looks at him when he finally stops and the moment stretches between them until Alan has the urge to ask, ‘what?’
‘Mister, will you hold me?’ Kaipa says, and he purses his lips in a little plea that catches Alan off guard. Alan wonders if this is yet another one of those liberties Kaipa takes that he’s better off refusing. They’re pressed so close already, yet Kaipa wants to be closer still.
Alan slides his hand from Kaipa’s back and curls around his torso. Kaipa tucks himself into the little space that opens up between Alan’s body and the railing of the balcony. He wants to be surprised at how easily he gives in to Kaipa tonight.
But he also can’t remember the last time he’d refused Kaipa anything.
Or the last time that Kaipa asked.
Alan is tempted to ask after Kaipa’s own unfulfilled love.
But then the night breeze is cool against their clammy skin and Alan’s heart feels settled wrapped up in the warmth of their fantasy.
So Alan just holds him.
----
Scene 2:
This is how I had Alsn find out Kaipa loves uncle after he’s already ghosted and comes back to take care of Alan. And honestly, I am BAFFLED. where the fuck was I going with this? This was the first scene Alan realizes that he's actually in love with Gaipa???? And then what?? I was expected this Alan, the beat down loser (affectionate), to go fight for him????
----
Alan is surprised to see his secretary bring in a familiar face he’d had dinner with just the night before. It’s been a little more than a week since Alan’s little outburst at Jim’s restaurant.
Kaipa darts his eyes down in embarrassment as Alan gestures to the seat in front of him. Kaipa’s face is unnervingly stoic as he hands Alan the documents the secretary had prepared for him for Alan to sign.
Kaipa isn't keen on letting it be known that he knows Alan, let alone knows him enough to have had dinner with him every night the past week, so Alan doesn’t push.
Alan signs and pushes the contract back towards Kaipa, ‘did my secretary go over the terms of the loan with you?’
Kaipa nods.
‘And you know that if you default, we’ll repossess your collateral.’
Kaipa nods and signs on the pages that Alan flips over for him. When they’re done Kaipa thanks him and starts stuffing the papers he’d received into his little satchel. Alan can’t help himself because he recognizes the property on file, ‘that’s your house and you will give the money to,’ Alan pauses because doesn’t know if he can really utter the name.
‘Uncle Jim,’ Kaipa finishes for him.
There’s so many thoughts swirling in Alan’s head and he can’t decide on what he’s really allowed to feel about this. What does Kaipa owe him after all? He settles on confusion because he has to know why and he’s about to ask when it suddenly clicks together for him.
‘You love him.’
Kaipa nods even though it was rhetorical.
Ah
He knows this feeling well.
Heartbreak.
And it always seems to happen just like this, in the quiet of everyday life, slowly amassing a mountain of evidence that Alan can never seem to recognize. He feels wave after wave of shame wash over him and he marvels at how his heart can still feel heavy, how his eyes can still manage to prickle with unshed tears.
‘But he doesn’t love you.’ Alan remarks in his quiet panic. More than anything Alan wants to understand, he thinks. He wants to understand what someone has to do; to be loved like this.
‘He doesn’t have to.’ Kaipa responds, his quiet determination holding Alan hostage in his seat.
And perhaps what he should have said when Kaipa asked him if he loved Wen is that he doesn’t want to.
