Ram always left roses where King and his friends hung out. Each rose was a confession. Each fallen petal was a heartbreak.

The English translation of story between Kengkla and Techno. This story was not made by me it was all work of Mame a Thai author. If this story wished to be deleted by Mame, I am more willing to do. I am not making this to earn anything or for commercial use. Please don't share the link in public you can share my account instead and let them search the story by themselves. Thank you 😊

RAMKING FANFICTION! Sometimes action speaks louder than words. Luckily, King is a smart guy who can deal with the silent and distant Ram. How can Ram communicate his feelings to his senior? Will King be able to interpret the junior's actions alone? I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING! CREDITS ALL GOES TO THE RIGHTFUL WRITER! NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT. I ONLY WROTE THIS FOR FUN AND FLUFF BECAUSE I LOVE RAM AND KING. I FULLY SUPPORT MY ENGINEER THE SERIES.

„You walked? Are you crazy? Now I start to believe my boyfriend is insane." „Yeah, maybe your boyfriend is a bit insane." Warning: BoyxBoy DISCLAIMER: English isn't my first language, so please be aware of a lot of mistakes. :D I don't own any pictures or characters, only the plot.

I find myself in a predicament, or rather, in deep binding trouble, one that has no way out by the looks of it, and I have no one to blame but myself. Why? Well, I played around too much and got myself trapped by a spider; deadly and silent in his approach as he pounces, one who possesses an irresistible smile, a devious mind, lustful dreamy eyes, a tall mouthwatering muscular body, and a knack for always getting what he wants. The thing or person, he happens to want at the moment, is me; no surprise there really, I am that awesome...yes, I do toot my own horn, nothing wrong with that...awesome, remember. Anyway, the spider, Dorian Mars, has somehow managed to trap me before I even knew what was going on. How he did it is still a mystery. I was always careful, keeping him at arms length, not giving into his way or dancing to his tune. So how is it that I now find myself all fluffed up on his 'dinner' table ready to be devoured as he so please, all prettily wrapped with a bow, and a card slapped on my ass that says, "Please, Eat Me?"