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“Atta boy, Bam!”
It was a casual comment, done over private intercom because that was just Khun's leadership style. Praise and criticism were individual comments and group praise. Group criticism was at the end, in person. Unless it was Rak, things were about the same.
Khun doesn’t think anything of saying it. You give praise if it's earned. And Bam earns it regularly.
There's a pause for just a little too long. Then Bam replies, a bit shakily over the call. “Thanks… What’s the next target?”
“Don’t worry,” Khun says, noting the slight wobbliness of his voice. Did he trip? "Everyone else got the rest. Head to the meetup point, okay?" He pauses. "You were great Bam. You did really well."
Bam lets out a muffled noise between his teeth, a squeak piercing through the intercom. "R-right…"
He wants to ask what's wrong but he's already moving. He'll see Bam and ask him soon enough.
… Soon enough is very far away. First he has to get the proof they passed, then he has to regroup with Isu, then he has to get the passes for when they go up.
After all of that, he finally gets to his shared room with Bam. Rak is sharing with someone else now, thank god. Any more mating comments and Khun will throw him.
He doesn't knock, which was his first error. He opens the door, eyes half-closed, calling out his return. There’s no shower running this time or even the sound of the TV playing a terrible show. There's just a quiet sound of skin wetly hitting skin and soft, frantic breaths.
Then he hears Bam whine softly.
His throat locks. There's no one else in the room, Khun can tell. The curtains are closed barring a soft light from the window and all Khun can see is the steady movement of Bam's ponytail.
Fuck, Khun thinks. Should I come back later? They were dating, was it okay to watch your boyfriend while he fucked himself on his hand?
The door slides shut and Bam jumps. His glazed eyes sharpen a little until they alight on Khun himself. Then they seem to glaze a bit and he smiles dopily. "We passed?" He says instead of hello, like his wrist isn't still lazily moving under the sheets.
Khun smiles, a bit lopsided. He remembers Bam's squeaking voice, nervous on the call and wonders. "We did," he says, approaching the bed. He kicks off his shoes. "Thanks to your hard work, Bam. You did good."
Bam jolts and squeaks again, a frantic noise and shifting of his fingers.
Khun's smile widens, sharpening like a cat's smirk. "Why Twenty-Fifth Bam, he says slowly, eyes half-lidded. "Are you turned on by being a good boy?"
Bam squeaks. "I-" his voice cracks. "I… yes. I…" Bam licks his lips and looks away. "I want to be a good boy."
Now, Khun is sure this is a kink of some kind. A praise kink maybe? And it may also be buried due to trauma or something. He's not a psychologist. He doesn't know. What he does know is not to push for eye contact, to let it happen. What he knows is Bam sometimes struggles with compliments. He knows that affection makes Bam weak at the knees more than anything. He knows he himself is not the best at these.
But he gets closer and leans on the bed. "You are a good boy, Bam." Khun's smile softens. "you're always so, so good to me."
Bam's breath hitches and his golden eyes are quickly turning black. "Ah, Aguero…"
"Can I prove it?"
It's on the surface an innocent question. There could be anything Khun could do to prove it. He could just cuddle or massage or relax.
But Khun finds himself uninterested in that. He likes touching Bam, he likes seeing Bam come undone, surprising him. It's cute mainly, and Bam looks so pleased every time.
He takes one of Bam's hands, rough with scars but smoothed with lotion. Bam squeaks, his other hand still buried beneath the sheets.
"May I?" He asks again. He won't be disappointed if he can't. Even if all he gets is to watch or hear Bam jerk himself to completion and rub his wrist afterwards.
Maybe they should have sex after tests more often. It seems to kill his internal filter.
Bam looks up at him. "You may."
Khun smiles. He leans down and kisses Bam on the side of the mouth. Then he gently takes Bam's wrist and Bam lets him tug his hand free and over the blanket. It's damp, not wet, but Khun takes Bam’s index finger in his mouth and licks it anyway.
Bam lets out a hysterical little giggle, laughing through his teeth and Khun licks his hand clean.
“Hm,” Khun murmurs. “It doesn’t taste the same.”
“Smells the same,” Bam says, just to be contradictory.
Khun laughs and presses kisses to Bam's collar. "Shirt," he orders. Bam takes off his shirt. Khun's fingers gently tug off the binder next. Bam sighs with it off. He always does. Even if it's only been an hour or two. He wants to ask him to keep it off some days, but that’s a dysphoria thing? Does Bam experience dysphoria like that? He should ask right? Maybe not now but later. Or sooner.
He pulls the binder away and watches Bam's face, his expression soft and languid.
"What a look," Khun teases. Bam laughs at him, at his words and little smile.
"All yours right now."
"What about later?" He says, half a joke.
"I'll come back."
Bam's voice is steady, promising something he shouldn't promise. He’s looking at Khun with blazing gold, wildflower and full of determination.
It makes Khun want to believe him.
"Promise made to be kept," Khun says and kisses him again, full of mirth.
"For you? Definitely."
Khun laughs and begins kissing down Bam's chest. “Charmer.”
…
Undoing Bam is an art.
Bam is stubborn, and getting him to give and be given to when so much was taken from him is an exercise in promise and limitations. Not the limitations Khun believes he has but the ones that Bam admits to with his own body. His gasps and moans aren’t a symphony, not to Khun, but an expression of trust.
The bedroom is warm and quiet. Even their mingled noises of pleasure are hushed. Not because they can’t be loud. Their rooms are far apart from each other, but mindful of the echo in Bam’s sensitive ears.
Bam keens underneath him, soft and panting. Khun tickles the bruises he leaves on his waist and abs, peppering kisses on the pale stomach.
“Doing so well for me,” Khun murmurs. It sounds like an afterthought. It isn’t. Bam knows it isn’t. Khun knows it isn’t. Every gesture, every push, every sound he tugs from Bam, is intentional. “You’re doing so good, Bam.”
Bam whines. “Aguero~”
“Soon,” he promises. He licks gently down, massaging into those strong thighs. “You can wait a little longer, can’t you?”
Touching Bam in these situations, willingly, is a thrill he probably needs to find in other places, but like this reminds him how fucking stupid he was. He should have spoken up more, and he still should, he thinks. Just where to start is puzzling. Giving, sharing, showing, those are much easier. And in moments like these, they work best.
Khun reaches the foot of the bed and slides off of it. Bam lets out a snorting giggle and Khun lifts his head to look at him.
“What?”
“You look silly,” Bam informs him, eyebrows raised, still grinning.
“Is that what you say to someone who’s between your legs?”
“It’s what I say to you.”
Khun hmphs but makes a face. “Scoot up then. For my knees.”
Bam does, shifting himself on some pillows. Khun takes a moment to look at him, little bruises marking up his stomach,sweat making his skin glisten in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He knows that Bam is controlling his impression precisely to set him off. He knows a bit better what Bam looks like when he’s let go. That’s the expression Khun wants more than anything right now.
He scoots back onto the bed and settles to kiss Bam on the navel, licking his way down, pressing kisses to his thighs. Then he holds them there with both hands. Bam groans above him. “Aguero-”
“No,” Khun says, tone patient. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, Bam?”
Bam whines, but a brief look into his eyes says he’s fine. That he's excited. That Khun is doing great.
… Okay maybe he has a bit of a praise kink too.
He kisses between Bam's legs and starts to lick, gently at the folds. Bam's legs spasm slightly but Khun keeps his grip firm as he shuffles closer on his knees. He sucks gently and Bam cries out, shuddering happily. Khun lifts his head and says "good boy, Bam,” and goes back to it.
"I'm n-not a dog," Bam protests between pants for air.
You're better.
He knows better than to say that. He continues to eat Bam out before pulling back to breathe.
"Lube," he orders and Bam passes the bottle to him with shaking fingers. Khun coats his fingers in it and gently nudges one in with his tongue. Lube sometimes reminds him of liquified jello, but he’d never say that aloud.
Bam’s fingers tug on his hair, not painful, yet. It’s happened a few times. Then he shoves down. Khun would have smacked into his own fingers if he hadn’t prepared for it. He muffles a laugh which makes Khun whine.
“Aguero, please.”
Oh if I have to.
Khun pulls away and wipes his hands on his pants. They’ll be washed anyway. He sneaks a glance at Bam’s flushed face. His bangs are disheveled.
“Okay?” he says, just to be sure as he makes to open the lube bottle again.
Bam looks at him, right at him, searing through everything he is and not finding him lacking. “Yes,” he says with the intensity that intrigued him from the beginning. Even at his most hopeless, his most confused, Bam has never met anything with less of himself.
Khun climbs back over and unties Bam’s hair, settling between his legs after tugging off his pants and underwear. He slides the offered condom over his dick.
“Help?” he says and Bam shifts up.
Khun pushes in slowly, following Bam’s harsh little puffs of breath with low murmurs of encouragement.
“You’re doing so good, Bam,” he says and Bam shifts, pressing his head against Khun’s collarbone.
“You’re never… ever letting this go,” Bam pants and Khun grins.
“Never,” he agrees and starts to move. It’s a little indiscriminate, it’s not that they’ve had that much sex, it still feels new.
But he’s learning and Bam, it turns out, is an excellent teacher in multiple ways.
“You’re taking me so well, Bam,” he tries and Bam loses it then, giggling helplessly. “Oh come on,” Khun protests. “It was working.”
“It wasn’t,” Bam wheezes. "It was so cute."
Cute?
Khun huffs. "Well maybe I should stop then."
"No!" Bam protests. "Aguero please, I'm sorry~"
Bam squeaks as Khun thrusts. "Then be good for me."
Bam lets out another protesting noise and Khun thrusts forward, gripping Bam's waist tight.
They both lose words. Khun has thousands of them tucked under his tongue, but forgets most of them at the sight of Bam's lax, loving expression. All his. All for him.
Khun groans against Bam's collar, thrusting erratically. Bam's arms are wrapped around his back, babbling pleas of more, harder and Khun does his best because the pleasure is settinghis spine on fire and like a wave it's ready to pull him under.
Bam cries out, right in Khun's ear and everything feels tight down to Khun's veins and he comes.
They both flop uselessly on the bed for a moment. Then Bam rolls him off and out, grumbling about weight. The condom nearly slides off but Bam takes it to throw it away.
Khun blinks blearily at him, thoroughly disoriented. "Was good," he mumbles. His exhaustion from the day hits him like Rak against a dislocated shoulder. "'m tired now."
Bam turns off the light and whispers. "You were great too, Aguero. Love you."
Khun hums. "Love you too…"
He's not sure if he said it or not, but when he wakes up in the middle of the night in Bam's arms, he knows his boyfriend knows it anyway.