(BL) In His Frame

On the way to the car, I finally noticed it—my shirt was splattered with dried blood.

It wasn't mine, but I knew Ian would panic if he saw it.

Without hesitation, I grabbed the spare shirt I kept in the backseat and changed quickly, not wanting to give him one more reason to worry. I tossed the stained one aside and started the car, heading straight home.

He was waiting. I needed to get to him.

I reached the house at 6:10 p.m.—ten minutes late.

Ian hadn't called. Not even a message.

That wasn't like him. And that silence made my chest tighten.

I didn't even bother locking the car properly. I rushed inside, heart pounding faster with every step.

I opened the front door and froze.

From behind, Ian was sprawled across the sofa—motionless, like a lifeless body. His head tilted awkwardly, arms limp at his sides.

My heart dropped. Panic surged through me.

"Ian?" I called out, already rushing in. "Baby?"

No reply.

I dropped my keys and phone on the floor with a loud clatter, feet moving faster as fear gripped my chest.

"Ian!" I gasped again, circling the couch to face him.

And there he was.

Fast asleep like a child, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, lips slightly parted, peaceful as ever.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I pressed a hand to my chest, then tapped my forehead, muttering under my breath,

"God, Phu… you're insane."

Phu sat down beside me quietly, the couch dipping under his weight. He didn't say anything at first—just sat close, his presence wrapping around me like a soft blanket.

Half-awake, I stirred, sensing him there. My voice came out groggy, thick with sleep.

"You came back, Phu…"

My eyes barely opened as I mumbled, "I waited for you… so long."

Phu smiled, the kind of smile that carried guilt and love all at once. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.

"Yes, baby," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm here now."

He looked at me for a moment, then asked softly, "Are you hungry?"

I blinked slowly, my eyes finally meeting his."…Yeah," I murmured, barely above a whisper. "I am."

Phu leaned in and kissed my forehead gently.

"Okay, let's grab something to eat. Do you feel like Chinese, Thai, or Indian takeout?" Phu asked, his fingers already reaching for his phone.

I rubbed my eyes and sat up slowly, still drowsy but definitely hungry."I wanna get Indian… kinda craving cheese naan and tandoori."

Phu chuckled softly. "Okay, baby. Cheese naan with tandoori it is."

We placed the order together, a few extras thrown in—some butter chicken, dal, and mango lassi just because Phu said I looked like I needed it.

While waiting for the food, we both went to shower. I finished quickly—I hadn't really done anything all day, just waited and worried.

Phu, on the other hand, took his time. I could hear the water running longer than usual. Maybe he needed the time to breathe, to wash off more than just sweat and city dust.

The food arrived before he came out.

I thanked the delivery guy, brought everything in, and carefully arranged the table—placing the naan in the center like it was some kind of crown jewel.

Then I sat down, quietly waiting for him. For Phu.

Phu called out from upstairs, his voice slightly muffled by the bathroom door.

"Five minutes, baby. I'll be down there."

"Okay," I replied, already seated at the table, sipping slowly on my mango lassi. The cold sweetness calmed my nerves while I waited.

A few minutes later, I heard his footsteps on the stairs.

He came down still towel-drying his hair, wearing nothing but short lounge pants. No top. His skin was still damp from the shower, and I instinctively looked away—I didn't want to stare too long, even if I wanted to.

He caught my glance anyway and smirked slightly.

"Eat, baby," he said, walking over. "Why are you waiting?"

I picked up a piece of naan, nibbling the corner, and shrugged lightly."I wanted to eat with you."

That made him pause. His expression softened as he sat down beside me.

"Okay," he said with a smile, reaching for a piece himself. "Then let's eat together."

I tried to focus on my food, but it wasn't easy.

Phu is sitting across from me, eating slowly, but his eyes never leave mine. His gaze was steady, intense, almost impossible to read. It made the air feel heavier than it should have, thick with something unspoken.

I was in one of my favorite comfort outfits: a loose top and soft floral shorts. The top hung low enough that if I leaned forward too much, it gave more of a view than I intended. And Phu, of course, noticed everything.

Still, I kept my eyes on my plate, determined not to give his staring too much power. I chewed slowly, refusing to let my nerves show.

"You feel better, baby?" he asked suddenly, his voice soft.

I looked up at him, a bit startled. "Yeah… why?"

He gave a small shake of his head and smiled faintly. "Nothing. Just asking."

He picked at his food for a moment, then added casually,"When do you plan to go back to work?"

"Nok told me to rest for at least three or four days," I replied, reaching for another piece of naan. "So… probably the day after tomorrow."

Phu nodded. "Okay. Sure, baby. Whenever you're ready."

Then he paused, eyes flicking back to mine.

"I'm on leave tomorrow," he added. "Do you wanna go anywhere?"

I blinked. "Really?"

He nodded.

I let the question hang in the air for a second before answering with a small smile,"Hmmm… I don't know. Let me think about it."

We finished eating, and Phu insisted on cleaning up. He was already at the sink, rinsing the dishes while I lingered at the dining table, still sipping my mango lassi.

"I'll do the dishes, baby. Just relax," he'd said with a smile.

So I sat there, half-lazy, half-content, sipping hard through the paper straw—until a big chunk of mango got stuck. I tried to suck harder, but with a loud pop, the straw gave out, and the lassi exploded.

Right onto my chest.

Cold, sticky mango lassi dripped down my shirt and neck, and I just sat there in stunned disbelief.

Phu turned around at the sound, took one look at me, and burst out laughing.

"Oh my god—baby!"

He rushed over, grabbing a kitchen towel on his way. Still laughing, he crouched in front of me and gently started wiping the mess off my shirt.

I sighed, exasperated. "I just showered…"

Phu grinned, brushing the towel lightly over my collarbone. "Yeah… and now you're dessert."

"This is so sticky," I muttered, wrinkling my nose.

He paused, tilting his head with a mischievous spark in his eyes. "Close your eyes."

I blinked. "What? Why?"

"Just close them," he said, voice soft but playful.

Still confused, I did as he asked.

A moment later, something warm and soft brushed the corner of my lips. I let out a surprised, breathy moan.

"Ngh…"

Phu chuckled. "Don't open your eyes."

Before I could process, I felt his arms around me—and suddenly, he lifted me off the chair. I gasped as he carried me across the kitchen and gently sat me down on the cool surface of the countertop.

My heart raced, but my eyes stayed shut, exactly like he told me.

Phu's lips found mine in a slow, gentle kiss—no rush, just quiet intention. His hands rested at my waist, fingers lightly tracing over the fabric of my shirt, teasing and warm.

I squirmed slightly, letting out a small laugh between kisses. "That tickles…"

He smiled against my lips, not stopping. His touch was playful, but tender—just enough to make me feel grounded, wanted, safe.

I'd started with a tight, embarrassed frown… but now my expression softened. My body melted into his, the tension slipping away with every soft brush of his mouth, every feather-light graze of his fingertips.

Phu deepened the kiss just slightly—still gentle, still patient. Like he wasn't in any rush to be anywhere else but here, with me.

And honestly… neither was I.

Everything else faded—the world, the noise, even time itself. Only the two of us remained in that charged stillness. The quiet hum of the fridge barely touched the heavy air between us.

Then he pulled back just enough to look at me.

His gaze—dark, intense, filled with quiet longing—locked onto mine. A teasing, almost dangerous smirk curved his lips as he spoke, low and sure.

"Mind if I have a little taste? You're driving me crazy right now."

I find myself smiling, a soft, breathless sound escaping him. His hand, still tracing the line of your jaw, sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes, baby," I whisper, leaning into his touch, my voice a little breathless, my heart doing a frantic dance in my chest.

Without a word, his warm hands slide to the hem of my shirt. In one easy motion, he pulls it over my head and drops it onto the chair. The cool air brushes against my bare skin—but only for a second, before he pulls me back into his heat.

Then, without warning, he lifts me effortlessly and places me on the cold, smooth countertop. My hands move behind me for balance as my legs wrap around his waist on instinct. He leans in, kissing slowly down my neck and across my collarbone. Each soft press of his lips sends a spark straight through me.

His kisses trail lower, slow and teasing. His mouth barely touches my skin—light as a whisper, warm as a breath. I shiver under him, a soft giggle slipping out from the rush of pleasure and the ticklish heat of it all. I reach up, cupping his face, half-laughing and half-melting, completely undone by the way he touches me.

"Phu," I gasp between bursts of laughter, my voice half-lost in a giggle, "it's so ticklish!"

He lets out a low chuckle, the sound deep and warm against my skin—but he doesn't stop. His tongue moves in slow circles around my nipple, teasing me with every soft, maddening swirl.

Then he hums quietly, full of want, and wraps his lips around it—sucking deeper, firmer.

"Haa—!" A sharp gasp escapes me, the feeling hitting hard hot, and overwhelming. He keeps going, his mouth working with slow pulls and soft nips that send shivers down my spine. My breathing stutters, and the moans come—quiet at first, then louder, rougher, echoing through the still kitchen like a rising plea.

"Aah… aah… Phu… it feels so good," I whimper, my voice thick with pleasure, my body moving on its own toward him. "I—I can't take it… I think I'm gonna lose my mind…"

His free hand moves with confident ease, slipping around to my back. His fingers search with practiced precision for the clasp of my final layer, the last barrier between us—each movement a silent promise to let desire take full control.

Phu looked into my eyes. I blushed and quickly covered part of my face with my hand, but he leaned in and kissed me softly. It was gentle and comforting—a kiss that quietly promised something deeper was coming.

"Baby," he murmured against my lips, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me, "come down and turn over."

He was impossibly gentle, his strong arms carefully lifting me from the counter. I felt the slow descent, my feet finding the cool tile floor. He then turned me, positioning me so I faced the kitchen cabinets, the familiar space suddenly feeling charged with anticipation. He stood directly behind me, his warmth enveloping me instantly, a comforting, secure embrace.

His lips brushed the sensitive curve of my neck, planting featherlight kisses that sent a ripple of shivers down my spine. I felt him behind me—steady, warm—his presence wrapping around me like a silent vow. In the quiet, there was a small shift, a tender pause, and then a low whisper, "Baby, take your time with me." I gave a faint nod, heart full, feeling completely safe and seen in his embrace. He moved in closer, careful and patient, and our bodies met in a harmony so natural it felt like coming home.

His lips brushed just below my ear, lingering on the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Right here?" he whispered, the warmth of his breath sending goosebumps racing across my skin.

I shivered. "Yeah… that feels nice."

He smiled against my neck, trailing soft kisses down to my shoulder. "You always react so beautifully," he murmured, voice thick with affection.

I leaned back into him, breath catching as I felt the solid warmth of his body behind mine.

There was a pause—gentle, deliberate—before he murmured, "We'll go slow. Baby, take your time with me."

I turned slightly, catching his gaze over my shoulder. "I'm okay… with you, I always am."

He kissed my temple and held me closer. "Just tell me if anything feels too much, alright?"

"I will," I whispered, heart racing, but full of trust. "I want this... I want you."

His hands guided me gently, our bodies aligning with a quiet, breathless ease. Everything else fell away—just him, just us—and the rhythm we created in that sacred space between movement and meaning.

And then, everything else slipped away. The world shrank to just us—the heat of our bodies moving together, the soft brush of skin, the staccato rhythm of our breathing filling the space between.

I gasped as a slow wave of pleasure rippled through me, deep and consuming. "I… I can't…" I whimpered, my voice catching. "It's too much… you're driving me insane… ngh…"

Phu's hands tightened gently around my waist, his touch firm, grounding. His voice was low, coaxing. "You're doing so well, baby. Just feel me… that's it."

The pace quickened—a smooth, intoxicating rhythm. Every movement set off sparks through my nerves, my mind slipping deeper into the haze of pleasure.

"Don't stop," I breathed, my head tilting back against his shoulder. "Please... mmm... right there—yes, right there…"

Phu's breath caught, and he leaned in, his voice rough with restraint. "You feel incredible… so damn perfect like this."

I moaned, overwhelmed, words tumbling from somewhere deep inside. "Phu… god… you're so good. Just like that. Don't stop, please… please—keep going."

He kissed the back of my neck, breath ragged. "I've got you, baby. I'm right here."

My body trembled under the growing pressure. "It's too much—I'm gonna… nghh…!" My voice broke with desperation. "Please… more… just a little more—ngh…"

Phu's pace quickened, thrusts deep and purposeful. He groaned sharply as he reached his climax, his release triggering something deep inside me. My legs began to shake.

"Phu—ahh! I can't—I'm shaking…" I cried out, clutching at the table. "Please… make it stop…"

But it was too late—the pleasure crashed over me in violent waves. I came undone, completely and utterly his.

"Phu… I'm losing control… it feels too good…" I gasped, my voice barely more than a breath.

Phu leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of my head. His arms wrapped tightly around me, grounding me as I trembled.

"Calm down, baby… I've got you," he murmured against my skin.

I turned, clinging to him, trying to steady my breath. The world blurred around us. After a moment—once the haze eased just enough for me to speak—I managed, "You make me feel… so full…" I whispered, breathless, the words catching between my lips and the thundering beat of my heart.

He smiled, eyes soft with something deeper than desire, and kissed me—hard. Like he needed me. Like he couldn't breathe without me.

And in that moment, nothing else existed.

Just his voice, his touch, and the sacred space where we came undone together.

.