Caught in Possession

Ties / Wings

Warning: Mature content!

A farcical routine played out over the next days, Kaownah complicit in helping to hide Mew from all save Gulf and himself - most notably the elder man's father - until the Cup final had been chalked off and the team could return to London.

So Mew stayed in the hotel room, not a single, curious, creeping toe outside the door henceforth, impromptu guardians stashing extra food at the restaurant buffet and smuggling it back to him wrapped in napkins.

It was comical, really, when Gulf reflected upon their bizarre parallel reality. The great and powerful - notorious and feared, even - Suppasit Jongcheveevat surviving on pieces of tissue-congealed cold pizza, leaping to conceal himself in the closet at every casual knock to the door. Lying stretched out on his back on Gulf's bed, reading and re-reading Kaow's Formula 1 car magazines, as hours, minutes and seconds dragged by in an aching tedium of slowest motion, whilst the two footballers attended training and fitness sessions, team bonding and morale boosting meetings aplenty.

But ultimately, it was because Mew didn't want to leave Gulf - the two simply refusing to separate again. It wasn't discussed, just understood. They stick together now.

As cumbersome as days were, nighttimes presented their own awkward set of challenges. The first evening, the pair had settled down to share a narrow bed, Kaownah in the second twin. But under the cloak of darkness, Mew's hands began a mischievous game to which Gulf's body readily responded, and before either intended it they were lying flush up against one another, hungry and erect, Kaownah's voice stating out hesitantly into the faded light of the room:

"Just so you both know, I can hear you..."

So Mew was ejected to the floor, famous pout in full play.

On the second night, circumstances proved yet more trialling though.

The team returned to the hotel drunk and jubilant, glinting silver trophy passed from one slurring, off-key six-foot songbird to the next as they celebrated victory and some sense of atonement after their near-miss of the summit in the domestic league season.

Every ounce of admirable self restraint Gulf had exercised the previous night obliterated by the exotic heat of multiplied tequila, Mew somewhat merry himself courtesy of a chain of bubbling, mini bar lager bottles and later, straight, golden whiskey, as he had watched the televised match in nervous solitude.

A bleary-eyed Kaownah collapsed down onto his bed fully clothed - loud snores emitted before his head even touched the pillow - and almost as quickly, Gulf was winding himself brazenly onto Mew's lap, pulling him in by the collar to kiss deeply, sensually, hissing in frustration when the elder pulled dutifully away.

"Gulllf, baby we can't, your friend..."

"But I want you"

"I want you too"

"Come on then", a whiny edge as he gyrated his hips, grinding down as unashamed moonlight temptress.

"Baby, he'll hear us"

"No. We'll be quiet" - between kisses, tasting decadent alcohol on each other, lips busy.

"You know you can't be quiet on my cock Gulf"

A crimson-eared, endearingly bashful giggle, before...

"I will, tie something around my mouth Phi, I'll be quiet I promise, just give it to me. Please Daddy" - ass rubbing more insistently as the elder's hardening groin rutted back against him at such edible words.

Mew's eyes twinkled, lips licked and moistened unconsciously as Gulf clambered off to begin rummaging hurriedly, messily, in the wardrobe, clothes flung out towards every compass point as he sought a suitable gag.