Sin Dressed as an Angel

You'll Fuck Me, But You Won't Trust Me

With what little time he hadn't spent feeling ill, or shaking through his withdrawals until his teeth chattered, Sarawat had spent thinking about his interaction with Tine.

Unethical. Unhealthy. Filthy. Wrong. Debauched. Enabling.

Divine.

And entirely welcomed, nonetheless.

The war within Sarawat's mind had continued to rage on as the taste of their kiss lingered on his lips. But as much as he now aches for him — for his lips and his quick, needy hands — Sarawat is not prepared to become another notch on another list. He'd been there, done that plenty of times before. It simply isn't an option anymore.

It shouldn't be for him and he can't go back there, to that self-destructive place, where drugs understood him.

Aside from that, Sarawat prefers to keep to himself whenever possible.

But something about Tine tugs at a need from within Sarawat to join in and play this game that had started between the two of them. It's a coy sort of wickedness that wants nothing more than to coax Sarawat out of his shell — to drop the mask he wears just enough to revel in the wrongness of it all.

And so, there is also the pesky matter of Sarawat's own desire coming out to play, but his gut churns with nausea and anxiety at the mere thought of it. It's very unlikely that Sarawat's control over his inner self would falter — no matter how Tine teased at it.

Right?

He just doesn't want to go back down that rabbit hole again. It was the darkest years of his life and he isn't sure if he can climb back out of that if he falls again.

No.

The next group meeting goes as expected. More confessions. More affirmations. More very coy glances towards Sarawat from a very coy Tine.

Tine sits in the same place that he had the last time they'd been in this setting — a few seats down the circle from him. A distance is kept between them, but not so much as to make it impossible to catch the way in which Tine's gaze is unrelenting.

Studying. Dissecting. Completely enamoured.

When the group leader's voice chimes in again and interrupts both their trains of thought, her words hang like landmines in the air.

"We'll be practicing a peer support system. Everyone choose a partner."

A partner — something like that of a sponsor, but rather, someone to lean on when the urge to break edge gets too hard to handle. Someone to talk you away from blowing sobriety. And, in turn, someone to also lean on you.

A nice concept if your partner's vice doesn't happen to involve wanting to sleep with you.

Tine sees his opening immediately and Sarawat doesn't need to look up to know exactly whose brown and worn boots they belong to when they come to stand in front of him. Tine doesn't say anything at first, but rather, stay exactly as he is, arms crossed over his chest.

Sarawat's gaze slowly trains up to meet dark eyes and is none-too-surprised to find them already thoroughly lust-blown.

When Sarawat is the first to speak, his voice is calm and cool, but questioning. "Do you really that's a good idea, Tine?"

Blinking hard once and staring down towards the other boy with lips pressed into a tight line, Tine simply shrugs the bow of one shoulder and lets a lopsided smirk spread over his heart-shaped mouth. Of course he knows that choosing Sarawat as a partner would be anything but a good choice, but Tine's fixation wouldn't allow him to choose anyone else.