RULES OF THE GAME (English) BounPrem

Game start

Before Boun noticed him, Prem ran off to the restroom. Opening the faucet and wetting his hands, he quickly patted his neck and cheeks to cool himself. He felt like he had a fever, though it was probably just the alcohol to blame. Looking at himself in the mirror, the man sighed. Why had he run away in the first place? Why would he hide, and from whom? From Boun? That's just his deputy. Isn't it? He need to calm down, go back to the hall and act normal. It couldn't be easier.

As he pondered, the door opened and a tall blond man entered the restroom.

- Good evening, Mr. Warut, - he said, smiling. - You look gorgeous tonight.

- Ahem. Yes, good evening... You too. - He said a little confused. - I think I should be getting back.

Prem turned away, heading for the door, but as he passed it, he felt the light touch of long fingers on his arm. They slid along like the touch of a feather. It was so casual, but at the same time noticeable, that Prem turned around, catching the edge of a sly smile.

Once inside the restaurant, he took a seat at one of the tables that had been reserved especially for the executives. Soon Boun appeared in the room as well. He looked gorgeous today, and although he was dressed in the same suit, Prem thought that Boun fitted in it much better. Next to him he felt like an ignorant boy, no matter how much he tried to keep up the brand of strict superior. These ambivalent feelings knocked him out of his rut, but at the same time gave him inexplicable sensations that were difficult to understand. His gaze fell again toward Boun. Around him, as well as always, almost all the female part of the company was gathered. Girls were clinging to the handsome man, each of them wanted to get a piece of attention, but he only smiled at them with his stunning smile and joked. And this, frankly speaking, began to piss Prem off.

His appetite was gone at once, so Prem picked up another glass of champagne from the table and drank it down. The alcohol, drunk on an empty stomach, went straight to his head, and he just wanted to turn it off. The time was approaching midnight. The countdown for the New Year had begun. Everyone was yelling and congratulating each other. And then there were claps and everyone leaned against the panoramic windows, behind which the fireworks were now starting.

After a while the music started again and the crowd moved to the dance floor. The party continued. Prem felt his head really start to spin, wanting a breath of fresh air. He stood up, swayed and headed for the lobby, but he couldn't make it to the elevator, just stopping at a wall with a beautiful bas-relief. He leaned back and closed his eyes for a while, but then he felt someone approach.

- Mr. Warut, are you all right? - A velvet voice sounded painfully familiar.

- Yes, I'm fine.

The man opened his eyes and focused. Boun was standing beside him, his arm out against the wall, hovering over him and looking straight into his eyes.

- And I can see that you're not. I'll take you to your room. You need to get some rest.

Boun picked him up by the waist, squeezing him tightly, and dragged him into the elevator.

- When did we switch to "you"?

- Right now. I think we've had enough eye contact games.

Boun dragged the intoxicated guy to his room and, taking a card from his pocket, put it to the electronic lock. It clicked, letting them in. As the door closed behind them, Prem was roughly pressed against the wall. He couldn't gather his thoughts and say anything. His head was empty, only his whole body was now burning with fierce desire, feeling the tight embrace. Boun took off his jacket and threw it on the floor. Then quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Prem grabbed the blond man's arms, but in an instant a rough grip on his wrists had them pinned to the wall. The manipulation just made his entire body gasp inside and heat rush through his body. The excitement was off the charts. The fabric of his pants was so tight from his hard-on that it was already pressing hard against his zipper.