A/N: MINDS are the dirtiest things that don't make you feel disgust but you do SWEAT. So be careful while playing with your mind, they trick you. After all, AI is given birth by a mind that wants everyone to cease using their mind.

Enjoy this pure dirty rag with fine wine and no dine.

It will be a few more days till he has a guaranteed night to himself, one with the promise of no interruptions. Up to that day, Kong's stomach flutters, and every time he remembers his plans, he flushes. It's ridiculous, but he finds himself convinced that somehow everyone around him knows of his plans. He's tense and antsy and excited for the night to come.

He rushes home that night. Maybe he should feel more shame, more embarrassed at all the effort he's put into this. 'No one will ever know' he rationalizes.

In his apartment, he quickly pours and throws back a finger of whiskey, then another to calm his nerves. He closes the blinds and draws the curtains, dimming all the lights as he moves through the room. It's unnecessary, of course. This time of night, on this floor? No one could be able to see a thing, he could even- no...not that, not now.

(A/N: He looks so gasp-worthy partner for Handsome Arthit)

No music this time. While it would help cover potential sound, he'd never be able to listen to it again. And to find a song that fits this mood? As he doubts his current playlist contains anything even remotely erotic, least of all something that fits whatever the mood 'losing your anal virginity' is.

All of the equipment is laid out on a towel on his desk. All accounted for. The covers are stripped back from his bed and a brand new towel is laid across.

Kong checks all locks one last time before entering the bathroom. The shower serves two purposes: to further unwind and to cleanse. Fastidious as always, cleansing could be seen as an arduous task for Kong, but he's always found it rather grounding. He steps out of the shower and slips on his robe. Re-entering the studio apartment, his mind is calmer and he feels more determined.

He checks the thermostat and adjusts it the smallest bit. Make sure he's comfortable, it won't be easy to stop once he gets going.

He takes a bottle of water from the fridge, opens it, and sets it on the bedside table along with an extra pack of wet wipes.

'All this just to play with your ass for the first time? What a prince you are,' Dongsik's voice teases in his head. He lets his robe all to the floor.

He takes a deep breath. He's ready.

He gathers the gloves, lube, and dildo and deposits them onto the bed.

The dildo had been the most difficult purchase for Kong to make. There'd been so many options and the sizing discrepancy was quite alarming. After dismissing all the hyperrealistic and tacky, neon-colored ones, he'd settled on one that seemed fairly modest, in comparison to the others, at least. A simply smooth black matte finish with a flared base, 7 inches- modest, he'd thought at the time, hardly anything at all. Looking at it now, it seems much too big, momentarily cursing his bravado, he should've swallowed his pride and gotten the smallest, though glitteriest one.

His bursts of confidence are followed by icy plunges of such intense vulnerability, that he's dawdling now and needs to move fast.

What a waste it would have been to have come this far only to back down.

He kneels in the center of his bed on the towel and pulls on one of the gloves.

As planned as this was and as clean as he feels, he's still by no means within his comfort zone. He can't yet think of the act as a whole, and instead each step, individually. A degree of separation between it all.

With a small dab of lube, the first finger goes in easily enough, once he finds the right angle. There isn't much pain at all, just a minor discomfort. Most of the resistance he faces is mental, knowing what he's doing, the reason for it, and the anticipation of what's to come later.

He holds like this for a moment, focusing his breathing, occasionally shifting the finger around, testing the rim for any give. Bracing himself, he slips the single finger further adding another alongside.

It's still mostly fine. Still no real pain. The position is awkward on his wrist, he won't be able to continue like this for long, but mostly he's getting impatient. Already he wants to move much faster. He has to fight the urge. Even though he knows he could so easily add another finger, he wants this to be good, to get it right the first time.

Go slow.

'Like a good boy,' he heard whispers in Arthit's voice.

He shivers.

He fingers himself a bit longer, till he's certain he needs more.

The fingers slip out and he takes off the glove, wiping his hands before flipping over on the towel.

Laying on his back, breathing hard, Kong has to calm himself. He hasn't even been hard the entire time yet he still feels more aroused than ever before.

Applying a new glove and more lube, Kong spreads his legs, lifting one as he slips his lubed hand down to his hole. Some more awkward pressing later, a first and then second finger both sink in with little resistance.

Laying back, tries to keep his mind blank, if he doesn't, he knows where his thoughts will go. He takes in more of his fingers bit by bit, going slow to aid in the stretch.

So far, so good, nothing he hadn't anticipated.

He shivers now and then, the feeling still so foreign. Occasionally it tingles in such a satisfying way. He finds pleasure in the stretch as he swirls and begins to thrusts his fingers, his cock finally stiffening on its own.

It's getting difficult to keep up the arousal with only his fingers, the anticipation at this point building to a deep burning ache inside.

He glances at the dildo and makes up his mind.

His face is red, and his body damps from sweat as he reaches over to the desk and picks up a condom. He awkwardly slips down the dildo and momentarily feels a burst of shame gazing upon the lewd object.

He kneels over the towel, considers it for a moment, and then removes his glove. He shifts around, trying to figure out the optimal spacing of his knees before settling on widening them just a touch more.

Kong wishes he could pour himself another drink.

One hand braced against the bed frame, he hesitates another moment. He swears at himself and counts backward from ten. A few deep breaths and he's finally pressing the tip of the dildo inside his hole.

He gasps, it already feels so strange, so different. He keeps up the pressure as it slips in with little resistance. He presses more and gasps, jumping a bit at the sudden resistance. He's having to think, now, back to what he'd read.

A moment to regain some composure and he adjusts the angle, pressing it further in as he bears down against it. It's counterintuitive, feels like fighting it, but he can tell it's working, feels the dildo slip in a steady inch by inch.

He's out of breath when he has no choice but to stop. The sensation is unlike anything he's experienced and can't begin to describe. He's not sure how far along he is, but it already feels so much bigger and deeper inside him than he could've imagined possible.

A few more breaths and he's pressing against the base of the toy once more. The progress is slower at this point, meeting with more resistance, but Kong presses on. Every once and a while the angles are wrong and it hits inside in a bad way that leaves Kong gasping and clenching his fists, fighting the urge to yank the entire thing out, the sensation so sharp and piercing.

Finally, he feels the flare base touch his ass and he feels he could cry.

He's shivering, only half hard again as he gently falls and rolls onto his back.

He feels a bit light-headed. He can't help but look down and though all he sees are his abs, same as ever, the thought bursts forth, 'There's something inside me' and he gasps as he unconsciously clenches and moans.

Knees spread, he brings his hand to the base of the toy, just touching it. Further down he can feel how taut the skin is around the rim. He runs his other hand down to the base of his cock, and hesitates to stroke it. This has never been something he was good at. He feels that he's worked backward. He had to, though. If he'd started with an image in mind, there was no doubting who it would've been of.

Even now, he knows what he'll see. But who else is there? Should he allow himself to indulge this once?

He breathes in heavily and squeezes his eyes shut. He releases the sigh as he grabs the base of the dildo as he begins thrusting it in time with the strokes of his cock.

Arthit, uhmm, what would Arthit think of this? He tries to imagine it. Maybe Arthit would catch him like this, young and naive, as always, fumbling with things he doesn't understand.

Arthit could show him. Arthit has experience.

'Aigoo, look at that, so rash and desperate. Not so easy as you thought? Too rash and you could hurt yourself, you know?'

Kong hastens the movements of his hands.

'Though with such little thing, I doubt you're much at risk.'

He thrusts the dildo harder and harder.

'Is that all you can take?'

Kong is panting, burning, why does it feel so good to burn with shame?

'So close? Already? All ready to come all over yourself and I haven't even gotten a turn?'

He's so so close.

"P'Arth.."

He wants so badly to feel Arthit touch him. He's crying, apologizing, 'I'm sorry, I can do better, touch me, just touch me!'

A few frantic strokes and thrusts from the dildo have Kong arching, coming hard into his fist, gasping for air.

"ARTHIT"

He's clenched hard around the dildo, thighs trembling.

He imagines Arthit between his legs, looking down at him. At the mess he's made of himself.

After a couple of shaky breaths, he opens his eyes. The room is empty though there's a heady stench of sex and sweat that lingers.

He grabs the base of the dildo and slowly tugs it free, whimpering at the sensitivity as it catches awkwardly due to the drying lube.

It doesn't hurt too bad, just a bit of a burn in his ass, a sensation he can't ignore. He hopes it's gone by tomorrow, he doesn't think he'd be able to ignore it completely and act natural.

He grabs the pack of wet wipes to clean the come from his hands and chest, though he'll have to shower either way.

He'd hoped this would be something he could get out of his system. Despite what he spent, he fully intended to throw it all away.

He fetches a nondescript black locking box from his closet.

He has to think for a moment, about where to place the box. After a moment, he decides to go with the bathroom and places it at the very back of the bottom shelf. He stares at it, considering it for a moment. He feels a bit of a twist in his gut and picks up a small towel to fold on top of it.

He walks tenderly out into the studio and pours himself another drink.

He turns on the music, pulls back the curtains a bit, and opens the blind to the pitch-black night.

He takes his drink and gently lounges on his sofa, his eyes drifting to the picture of Arthit he has tacked to his board.

His eyes linger as he sips.