(BL) In His Frame

I was still sobbing, barely able to breathe between the waves of emotion crashing through me.

Phu held me close for a while, then gently said, "Baby, come on. Let's stand up, okay?"

He helped me to my feet and slowly guided me toward the sofa.

But the moment I saw it—that sofa, the place where they had pushed me, where it all started—I froze.

My legs locked. My chest tightened.

"No," I whispered, panic rising in my voice. "I don't want to sit there."

Phu stopped immediately, his hand warm on my back.

"Okay. It's okay," he said softly. He understood—without needing me to explain.

He didn't ask again.

Instead, he turned to me gently and said, "Go pack a few clothes. I'll be back in ten minutes, alright?"

I nodded, still shaky, and slowly moved toward the bedroom.

Outside, Phi Tan and Nok were waiting quietly.

Phu stepped out to speak to them. His voice was low but firm.

"I'm taking him home with me," he said. "He can't stay here. Not after what happened. Can you help me get someone to fix the front door today? Replace the lock? Maybe even change the keys?"

Phi Tan nodded without hesitation. "Don't worry—I'll take care of it. Just get him somewhere safe. He needs rest, not more questions."

"He can take a few days off," Nok added gently. "I'll speak to everyone else. He doesn't need to explain anything."

Phu looked at them both, grateful and visibly exhausted. "Thank you," he murmured.

Then he turned back inside—to me. To bring me home.

After packing a few clothes, I wrapped myself tightly in Nok's jacket—the same one she'd covered me with earlier. It still smelled faintly of her perfume, soft and comforting.

Phu picked up my bag without a word, his other hand gently resting on my back as we stepped outside.

Phi Tan and Nok were waiting by the car, their faces still lined with worry, but calm now—steady, like anchors.

Nok stepped forward first.

"Ian," she said softly, "if you need anything… anything at all, just call me. I'll be there. I promise."

I gave her a small, fragile smile and hugged her. "Thank you, Nok," I whispered. "I mean it. Thank you… for everything."

She hugged me tight in return, and I felt the way she held her breath, like she was still carrying some of my pain for me.

Then Phi Tan stepped up, nodding once at Phu.

"Be careful," he said. "Take care of him. If anything comes up, call me immediately."

Phu gave him a firm nod in return. "I will. I promise."

Phi Tan gave me a brief, reassuring look—quiet, strong—then stepped back.

Phu opened the car door for me and helped me inside gently, as if I were something fragile that might fall apart with the wrong touch.

As we pulled away from the curb, I looked back one last time.

Nok waved with a faint smile. Phi Tan stood beside her, arms crossed, eyes watchful—making sure I was safe even as we left.

And for the first time in hours, I let out a quiet breath.

I still hurt. I still felt shattered.

But I wasn't alone.

Not anymore.

When we reached Phu's house, everything felt still.

Too still.

I walked in quietly, my legs heavy, my mind still trapped in flashes of what had happened. I sat on the sofa and stared at nothing, trying to make sense of a world that had stopped making sense.

Phu didn't push. He disappeared down the hallway for a few minutes.

When he returned, he walked over to me slowly and knelt beside the sofa.

"The bath's ready," he said softly. "Come on, baby. Let's get you cleaned up."

I looked at him, my voice small. "I… I want to soak. In the bathtub."

He hesitated."No, baby," he said gently, brushing hair from my face. "I don't think that's good for now. Why don't we have a quick shower and rest? You need sleep."

I shook my head, voice cracking. "Please..." I choked out, barely audible.

"I just… I need to wash it off. I—I feel so dirty. It won't go away. My skin… it still hurts…" My voice cracked.

"I can still feel it—like it's still happening. The tearing… the biting… it won't stop…" I curled in on myself, trembling. "I just want it gone… I just want it gone…"My voice trailed off, the words sticking in my throat.

Before I could say more, Phu leaned in and kissed me. Soft, slow, and full of emotion—not desire. A kiss that tried to pull me back to him, away from the pain.

I knew what he was doing.

He wanted me to stop feeling that way.

To stop hating my body. To feel safe again.

But I couldn't.

Not yet.

Without another word, he picked me up in his arms, still kissing my forehead gently, and carried me down the hall.

Into the warm, quiet bathroom.

The bathtub sat filled, steam rising from the surface, the scent of lavender faint in the air.

Phu didn't rush. He set me down gently on the edge, his hands never leaving me.

Phu knelt beside the tub, sleeves rolled up, his movements slow and careful as he washed me with warm water and soft hands—like I was something precious. Like I mattered.

I leaned back against the edge of the tub, watching him.

His black formal pants were slightly wrinkled from the rush, his crisp white shirt half-unbuttoned, clinging slightly from the heat and steam in the room. A few strands of his hair had fallen out of place. His collar open just enough to reveal the familiar curve of his collarbone.

Despite everything… or maybe because of everything, he looked achingly beautiful.

Comfort. Safety. Mine.

I found myself staring—too long, too intensely.

He noticed.

He paused, met my eyes with that soft, knowing smile.

"What is it, baby?" he asked, voice low and gentle. "You're staring."

I swallowed hard, eyes still locked on his.

"Kiss me,"I whispered.

He didn't hesitate.

Phu leaned in and kissed me—softly at first, carefully, like asking for permission with every breath. His lips met mine, warm and comforting, grounding me in this moment, this now, where I wasn't alone… where I wasn't broken.

But as his hand moved up to cradle the back of my neck, something inside me shifted.

Suddenly—a flash.

Unwanted. Sharp. Terrifying.

A memory surged forward like a tidal wave—their hands, the force, the shame—and my whole body tensed.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tight.

My breath caught.

Phu felt it immediately. His touch softened even more. No pressure. Just presence.

And then, quietly… "Ian," he whispered, lips still close to mine. "It's me. Just me."

I opened my eyes.

And there he was.

Phu.

My Phu.

The man who held me like I was worth loving. The man who never looked away, even now.

I let out a shaky breath, and something in my chest began to ease.

I looked into Phu's eyes, reached up, and gently touched his lips with my fingers.

"Get in the bathtub with me," I said softly.

He tilted his head, smiling faintly. "You shower first, baby."

But I didn't stop looking at him.

Didn't blink. Didn't move.

He sighed and smiled, shaking his head. "Fine. I give up."

He slowly took off his clothes, never once making a show of it—just quiet, calm movements, his eyes on me the entire time, as if making sure I felt safe. When he slid into the warm water, I moved instinctively, lying gently on top of him, my head resting against his chest, our legs stretched side by side.

The sound of his heartbeat under my ear was steady. Comforting.

I ran my fingers along the surface of the water, playing with nothing and everything at once.

Then I turned my head to look at him.

Phu looked down at me, brushing a damp strand of hair from my face.

"What is it, baby?" he asked.

I turned around fully, shifting in the water so I could face him.

"Can we… make love?"

His expression softened instantly.

He touched my lips again, then leaned in to kiss me—soft and slow, like the first time he ever kissed me.

When he pulled back, he held my face gently.

"Baby," he said, voice almost a whisper, "I don't think that's right. Not right now. Can we… give you some time? You've been through too much."

I looked down, my voice shaking. "I just… I don't want their touch to be the last thing I feel. I don't want this dirt on me anymore. I want… I want it to be yours."

He gently lifted my chin, urging me to meet his gaze. "Look at me, baby."

I did—and my tears started to fall.

His eyes were wet too, but steady.

"Are you sure you won't be scared?" he asked softly.

I nodded, whispering, "I know your touch. I know how gentle you are."

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in deeply—then opened them, filled with nothing but love.

"Then we'll go slow. Only if you feel okay. The moment you're not… we stop. No questions, no guilt."

I nodded again, burying myself in his arms.

Phu's touch lingered there, gentle but unsure, like he was afraid even the wind might hurt me more.

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper—fragile, as though the silence of the mountain might shatter if he spoke too loudly.

I nodded once, not because of the pain—but because of everything that came with it.

He leaned in, pressing a kiss just beside the mark. Not on it—never on it—but close enough that I felt it in my bones.

"I hate that I couldn't stop it," he murmured, eyes still fixed on my skin. "I hate that you'll remember this when you look at yourself."

I reached for his hand and placed it flat against my chest, over my heart.

"Then help me write something better over it," I said, my voice rough with cold and memory. "Something only we know."

He looked up at me then, and for a moment, the stars above weren't distant anymore. They burned in his eyes—quiet and fierce and full of a love that didn't ask me to be okay, just to be.

"Baby," Phu whispered.

His thumb brushed another angry welt on my side. I flinched—not from his touch, but from the memory it yanked back into focus like a hook buried deep.

He paused, eyes flickering with guilt.

But then his hand stilled, firm and grounding, not retreating. Just there.

"You can rest assured," he said, voice steady now—low and certain. His eyes locked onto mine, fierce and unyielding, like a promise forged in fire. "I will fix everything."

A silent promise passed between us, a desperate need for connection in the face of unspeakable violation. I looked at him, met his intensity, and nodded, a slight, almost imperceptible dip of my head. Then, leaning forward, I pressed my lips to his.

Phu responded instantly, his mouth devouring my upper lip with an aggression that was both shocking and strangely comforting. This wasn't anger directed at me, but a raw, untamed thing born of his fury and pain, channeled into reclaiming me, asserting his presence against the shadows that had dared to touch me.

His hand slid lower, a path of fire on my skin. Then, a sudden, intimate pressure. His fingers found me, not gently, but with a forceful precision, a claiming. A gasp tore from my throat – a strange sound, neither pain nor pleasure, but a raw, involuntary utterance. It was shocking, intrusive, yet in that same instant, undeniably… there. A deep, undeniable presence that filled the void left by the recent violation, a powerful anchor in a world that had gone utterly, terribly wrong.

He didn't break the kiss, even as his fingers moved inside me, a rhythmic assertion that reverberated through my core. His lips left mine, trailing a burning path down my jaw, along the curve of my neck, each kiss a brand, a wordless reassurance that I was his, that I was safe. Heat bloomed, radiating from deep within, a counterpoint to the biting wind, a fire ignited by his touch, by the sheer audacity of his proximity after such horror. I could feel the intensity of him, the raw desire that was part comfort, part furious reclamation, all over me. The world narrowed to the feel of his skin, the taste of his mouth, the shocking invasion that somehow felt like a necessary reclamation, a cleansing fire.

My breath hitched, a strangled sob escaping as his lips ghosted over the swell of my chest, drawing closer, ever closer to my nipple. The moment the soft warmth touched my hardened peak, the world tilted. My mind, already frayed, simply emptied. There was no thought, no memory, no past, no future. Only sensation remained, a roaring current that swept through me, obliterating everything but the incredible, overwhelming now. I couldn't think straight, the lines of reality blurring into a hazy, shimmering haze of pure feeling.

A guttural, helpless sound tore from my chest, a moan that was a declaration of utter surrender, of profound relief, of the terrifying, exhilarating edge of a precipice. My fingers tangled in the damp hair at the nape of his neck, anchoring myself to him, to this moment, to the tumultuous, overwhelming reality of us. The stars spun above us, indifferent and eternal, while our world, for a fleeting moment, was only this: a fierce, desperate embrace against the echoes of a nightmare.

The air in the room was thick with unspoken desire, a tangible charge that hummed between us. My body was alight, every nerve ending hyper-aware of his presence, the warmth of his skin against mine. We'd been teasing, orbiting the edge of release, and I couldn't bear another second of it.

My hips arched, a wordless invitation, my voice a low, throaty rasp as I pulled his face closer. "Phu," I breathed, my eyes locked on his, dark with a hunger that mirrored my own. "Phu, give it to me. I want it, Phu."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, a sound that vibrated through me, sending shivers down my spine. He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dilated with desire. "God," he murmured, his voice husky, "you really know how to turn me on."

His words fanned the flames already licking through me. I was desperate, a raw ache settling deep. I still felt the ghost of his finger inside me, a warm, slick reminder of the pleasure just out of reach. Then, with a practiced grace that always undid me, he pulled away, just for a fleeting second, and then he pulled his finger and inserted his inside mine, a guttural moan tore from my throat.

Aah.... lost myself. The world narrowed to the glorious friction, the sudden, overwhelming fullness.

A wave of heat surged through me, radiating from the point of contact. He reached my deep, precisely where I craved him, hitting my deep with every measured push.

My hips instinctively rose to meet him, a silent plea for more, for deeper. "Baby," I gasped, my voice thin, almost breaking, "I feel good. So good. Don't stop. Keep going. I want to feel you in me," I said, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging lightly into his skin.

My words, my desperate pleas, only served to fuel the fire in him. Phu, already fully turned on, his body taut and coiled, started to thrust faster and harder, each movement driving him deeper, driving me closer to the edge.

I kept moaning, a constant stream of guttural sounds, "Phu I feel so good... Ahhn, good... Ahhn don't stop... Ahhn, never stop, keep thrusting inside me." 

"Ian, you're incredible… so damn irresistible," he murmured, his voice low and breathless between the sounds of their closeness. "I could devour you every single day."

He smiled, eyes locked on mine, his movements deep and steady as our bodies moved in perfect rhythm. I moaned in response, unable to hold back, my body instinctively arching to meet his—every touch, every thrust sending waves of heat through me, desire building with every breath we shared.

"Yes, baby… take more of me," I breathed, my voice a soft, trembling sigh of pleasure. "Don't stop."

My words only ignited something deeper in him—his pace quickened, each movement more urgent, his body tense with the effort of restraint. I felt him tighten around me, and my own body trembled, overwhelmed by the rising tide of release building just beneath the surface.

"Haah… don't stop, baby," I breathed, my voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and longing."If it were possible to get me pregnant… I'd want it to be you."

My words sent a powerful jolt through him, his desire surging with unstoppable force. He could feel his release rising, urgent and close, his body straining to hold on. All he wanted in that moment was to give in—to fill me, to mark me as his, wholly and undeniably.

"Haah… I want you to let go inside me, please, baby," I whispered, breathless, my voice trembling with need. "Don't hold back… haah…"

With a final, trembling thrust, Phu reached his peak, his body shuddering with release.

"I'm coming, baby," he groaned, voice raw with pleasure.

I tightened around him instinctively, breath catching.

"Me too, baby… don't stop," I gasped, "just like that…"

My climax crashed over me in waves, overwhelming and blinding, as he spilled inside me—filling me, grounding me, claiming me with the most tender kind of intensity.

Our bodies slowly stilled, breath mingling in the quiet air, chest to chest as we sank into each other's warmth. The room, once alive with the sounds of our lovemaking, now held only the soft echoes of spent passion—proof of the fire that still burned so fiercely between us.

In the hush of the night, wrapped in his arms, I felt safe. Our bodies tangled, our skin still slick with shared heat, we had found a fragile kind of peace—solace in each other.

Phu pressed a soft kiss to my temple, his voice husky. "Now you smell like me."

I smiled at that, a small, sleepy grin as I turned to face him. "Yes," I whispered, kissing him slowly, letting it linger. "I'm sleepy, baby."

He brushed his fingers along my jaw. "Okay. Let's shower, then sleep," he said, voice tender. "I'll take care of you." And I believed him.