Thorn had always been an early riser. He was the first to rise out of his siblings and the first in a lot of things in his family. Though not the first born, he was favoured greatly by their father. He was the first to succeed in training, the one to calm their father's anger and the one to do all that was expected of him. So, he was the one chosen to take his father's role once his father thought him ready. The thing is, Thorn wanted nothing to do with that life. He much preferred his space and when he found an opportunity to find the freedom he was looking for, twenty eight year old Thorn took it. It was far from easy and he didn't have any connection to his family in a decade. Sure, there were close calls in the first couple years, but he wasn't the favourite for nothing. 

He had always wanted more than being his father's favourite. Most importantly, he didn't want to be the favourite. He quickly found who he truly was without his family's name and responsibilities holding him back. With the resources and skills he had, it was simple enough to make a name for himself in what he truly wanted. Criminology always interested him, the irony, but he was allowed to study it when he was his father's favourite. His family assumed it would help them, especially when he took up his father's mantle. Instead, it made him a pretty good Police Officer. Once he was over two kilometres away from Bangkok, he began his training and quickly went up the ranks. 

He took temporary positions in small Departments until he met Kit. Thorn carded his fingers through his husband's ebony hair, as he slept peacefully. Kit would always say that he got warm quickly when sleeping, but always found himself wrapped around Thorn or with Thorn resting on top of him. Most of the time it was the latter, cause he read a lot, late at night, so Thorn would just rest on him. His ear against Kit's chest, falling asleep to the calm beating of his heart and feeling content in his life. Right now though, Kit had his thigh thrown over Thorn's and he was snuggled into his chest. It was nearing seven am, but Kit would only be waking up at eight, a little while before Kal did. So, Thorn liked to take this time to appreciate his husband's beauty. 

It was moments like this that he couldn't believe were real. Thorn knew since he was a teen that he was attracted to both sexes, once he turned twenty, he had tried experimenting with both genders, but that was a risky try in his family. He had basically all of his experience with women and also had to fear the possibility of marriage, especially when it was with someone, regardless of gender, he didn't connect with. When he finally labeled it as bisexuality, he felt, silent contentment. Only two people had known about his sexuality, his true wants and fears and it was likely, he would never see them in this life again. He was forever grateful for them. 

Once he was finally free, he knew he probably wouldn't be able to have a stable relationship until he was certain he was safe. He had sex, but it didn't fill the feeling on loss and the depression that was beginning to blind him. He worked sometimes twenty four hours and didn't have any real friends anymore. He had to keep people on a short leash for almost five years, while he hopped around Thailand, America and China. Then on a cool summer evening, he bumped into Kittichat Khap. Before this, the concept of love to Thorn had been a far away thing. He never once thought he'd fall in love, even when he didn't have his family name holding him down and the freedom he thought he had so desired. 

Love immediately became warm doe eyes that narrowed fiercely when annoyed, red ears and cheeks when flustered. Love became passionate and breathless nights of Kit dragging his nails down Thorn's back and throwing his head back for Thorn to nibble and kiss at his neck. Love became Thorn memorising Kit's dimples and feeling utter peace at the sound of his laughter. He found himself loving every moment he spent with Kit, admiring his soft strength and quickly became in sync. It took only six months of Kit putting himself in Thorn's life for Thorn to become whipped. He wasn't a man to feel things easily, much less express himself, but he tried in the small ways he knew how to. 

Kit was, in his eyes, the most beautiful and most important person in his life. Kit gave him true joy, the first in his life, after thirty years of surviving, he finally knew living. Here beside him, in his arms, rings on their fingers and their son in the next room. The older man smiled gently and pressed a sniff kiss to Kit's head, making the younger groan in his sleep and roll over. Thorn immediately wrapped his arm back around Kit, leaning into his neck, breathing in his soft mint chocolate scent. Kit made a humming sound, signaling his awareness and slowly awaking. He had never been a morning person and it was a good hour before he usually woke up, not to mention, it was a Sunday. 

"You're unholy," Kit says into his pillow, "go back to sleep Thorn,"

Thorn hums, "I really can't," 

When one of his hands slips down to slide under the hem of Kit's shirt, rough palm dragging up along the soft plane of Kit's stomach. The younger can’t help the gasp that slips out as he wiggles in Thorn's grip. Thorn nips at Kit's neck and revels in the full body shiver from Kit, at the heated touch. Thorn abruptly pulls away from Kit and the younger lays onto his back, among the pillows with a teasing look and a fresh flush to his cheeks. And then Thorn is all over him, hands roaming the expanse of milky skin until nails are digging hard enough to leave half-moons behind on thighs, the bruises forming while Thorn gets his mouth on his husband. 

It's not at all gentle in the way he usually is but Kit doesn't care one bit. There’s a sigh, so soft and content that comes from Kit, it makes him groan low in his throat as a response. The younger man’s fingers dance on Thorn's stomach before they tug at the hem of his shirt, and then he’s pulling away to tug it off. Once that is gone, it's Kit's turn and Thorn helps him out of his sleeping shirt (which is just one of Thorn's larger and older shirts) before his mouth is immediately dragging wet kisses down Kit's neck, tongue laving across the skin before gently biting down on his collarbone. The temperature seems to drop between them when Kit whimpers and wraps his arms around the taller man’s neck and gathers him closer. 

Thorn slides his knee between Kit’s legs, and presses his obvious erection between milky thighs, making Kit’s eyes roll back when their bodies grind together. The knocking of their hips together brings out a hushed groan of please from Kit. Thorn practically melts on his tongue the harder he rocks into his husband. Kit's hands fly up to claw at Thorn’s broad shoulders, hips stuttering, scrambling for some type of purchase as Thorn presses into him, almond nails sinking into his back. Kit leaves no room for either of them, because he’s pressing back in again, kissing back with a kind of hunger that punches the air out of their lungs. 

Thorn breaks away but doesn’t pull back, breathing warm against his mouth, "Kitten," he says, voice gentle, and Kit can’t stop the groan that slips past his redden lips. It's a private nickname, something he liked calling Kit when they got intimate or when Kit was too deep in thought while working. From the clear pleased response, in the way Kit's eyes dilated and he rolled his hips slightly, he appreciates the nickname, just as much. Thorn feels one of Kit's hands leave his shoulder and claw into his hair. "Want me to get you off, Kitten," the older asks breathlessly, "Or do you want more?" It's the way Kit spreads his legs wider in answer and leans up, just close enough that their lips don't touch.

"I want you inside me," 

Kit doesn't go much further than that, cause Thorn closes the gap between them. Kit gasps wetly as he sinks back, head hitting the soft pillows again as their tongues dueled. Thorn’s hand reaches up to his hip again and there’s another sweet moan that climbs out of Kit's throat. A needy sound that bubbles up is just downright obscene when Thorn's hands slide down to his hips before grabbing his ass and yanking him close, pulling hard enough that Kit's grinding down on Thorn's thigh. Thorn's hips jolt, rutting against Kit's hip and Thorn's cock, hard and heavy, pressing through the cloth against his Kit's. It makes a groan spill from him as Kit rocks against him in response.

“Yeah, that’s it, Kitten,” Thorn murmurs. “Just like that," Kit whines at that, tugging Thorn back for a kiss, sloppy and filthy in the best of ways. Thorn breaks away though, his hands finding Kit's rosy nips and pinching. 

Kit worries his lip as fierce eyes meet Thorn's, “Please Thorn, I need you.”

The older man shushes him placatingly as he moves down Kit's body with teasing touches to soft nipples until he pauses at the waist or Kit's sleeping shorts. Fuck, Kit knows just how much Thorn loves him in these shorts. As much as Kit got self conscious about his thighs, Thorn loved the fat there. More for him to grab and fuck into. Thorn pulls down the shorts, Kit rising up slightly for him to shrug them off his legs. Then Thorn settles into place, enjoying the view of Kit's pink leaking erection and the blurry look in his heated eyes. Thorn hooks his legs over his broad shoulders. Brief annoyance and confusion twists Kit’s expression, and Thorn can’t help but to feel endeared to his Kitten's eagerness to taking cock. It’s one of the hottest things he’s ever witnessed, no matter how many times he's seen it.

 He doesn’t give Kit’s horny brain any time to figure out what he’s going to do before he drops low and spreads creamy cheeks to flatten his tongue out and lick a slow stripe between his plush ass cheeks. Kit liked to always be prepared and clean, so many times he prepped in the bathroom, before bed and whenever Thorn asked, especially if they were both free for a day or two. 

“Oh, fuck,” Kit wheezes, his head falling back uselessly against their messy bed. His face gets a cute flush from just how fucking filthy the act is. While Thorn's blood is singing with just how fucking hard he is and rather to take Kit apart. Turn him into a wet mess. Kit's fingers are clawing at his hair in a poor attempt to ground himself. “Yes, please Thorn, baby- Fuck!”

“Hmm," Thorn moves one hand from Kit's hip and grips his twitching length, giving it a slow stroke as he hums, "I'm gonna make a mess out of you, Kitten,” Thorn promises, his voice deep and raw.

“Yes!” he cries out, writhing against the sheets desperately. “Please, -fuck want it- need it, need you so bad,” His eyes are glossing over with unshed tears, as he arches and thrusts into Thorn's hand. While Thorn’s hot tongue is licking inside that pink tightness, curling up against his walls.

“Ah, Thorn!” Kit is babbling and the sound of their mixed pleasure, the fucking wet, obscene lapping of Thorn's tongue on his rim and teasing inside of him is maddening. 

He's panting, little sobs punching out of his Kitten against his will, he’s practically squirming beneath his husband, clumsily canting his hips against Thorn's face. Kit's delectable thighs lock up around Thorn’s head, heels digging into his lower back and his own back arching so sharply. Thorn couldn't even complain, even though he was practically in a death-grip. Thorn is only encouraged by the response of his body. His large hands then span over Kit'’s hips, tips of his fingers digging painfully into his skin hard enough to leave bruises. He’s fucking into the younger man with his tongue, saliva dripping messily down his chin and onto the sheets beneath Kit’s ass. 

They're so loud but thankfully Kal is known to sleep through parties louder, his own groans of pleasure and Kit's whines echoing around the room with the loud squelching sounds, filling up his ears. It’s so hot now that his muscles and his stomach is coiling tight, heat radiating outwards and burning him up from the inside out. Thorn never thought he'd be an ass man, but Kit had the fattest ass and he quickly enjoyed teasing him, gripping and spreading the cheeks whenever he got the chance. Plus the way Kit's moans start getting higher pitched and broken were enough for the older man. He gives one last lingering lap of his tongue against the hole that he'd made a feast out of before he’s shoving Kit's thighs open and lifting his head out from between his cheeks.

Kit is almost weeping, body thrumming with the need to cum. Thorn could tell that he'd been right on the edge and now he was being cruelly pulled away from it. The desperation of it all is good cause Thorn is edging his own in the way he loves. “Kitten, be good for me and I'll give you what you want,” Thorn says, voice dripping with authority. "Get the lube, Kitten." 

It takes Kit some time for the words to make sense in his fuzzy brain, but once he’s got them sorted, he blinks and lifts his heavy head up off the bed. He weakly reaches across to Thorn's bedside table and pulls open the drawer, before twisting slightly to dig in for the bottle of lube. Once he finds it, he shifts back over to Thorn who has to stop teasingly staring at his ass. But not without giving the flesh a soft smack, enjoying the way Kit gasps and the way it bounces. Thorn sits back on his heels, thick thighs clenching and one hand lazily stroking his girth.

 The sight is too much for Kit, cause he quivers and teases his nipples as his fierce eyes linger on Thorn's cock. Thorn smirks and takes the bottle of lube, before snapping it open and squirting a copious amount onto his hand and cock. His Kitten purrs for him and Thorn dives down at the sound, pressing gentle sniff kisses to Kit's neck and positioning himself in between Kit's thighs properly. This makes soft breathless giggles rise from Kit before Thorns fingers briefly circle his rim. 

Kit curses, "Stop fucking teasing me and fuck me Thorn." The older lets out a feral groan and breaks away from Kit's neck.