YOU BELONG TO ME, my stand-in

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Fandoms: ตัวนาย ตัวแทน | My Stand-In (TV)

Categories: M/M

Relationships: Joe/Ming (My Stand-In)

Characters: Joe (My Stand-In), Ming (My Stand-In)

Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Mild Sexual Content, Canon Accurate Possessiveness, Domestic Fluff

Summary: During the monsoon season, Joe and Ming are stuck indoors with little else to do than bask in each other's company. The sheets need washing, the cupboards are restocked and ready for a meal, and Ming's possessiveness knows no bounds when Joe teases him.

Notes, at the beginning: I reckon that it's about time that I write a Joe/Ming fic, given how My Stand-In — along with UpPoom themselves — have become my latest obsessions. Jack & Joker will probably be the next one that I write for, and then I'm finishing off another PheeNon fic, and another SamYotha fic.  I also know that I've no doubt got a few people waiting on the second part for Puppy Pat, and... Well, I don't know when that's gonna get finished in the slightest. Sorry, guys.

Notes, at the end: Come chill out with me on Twitter! I promise that I don't bite!

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑒 — 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑-𝑖𝑛

𝑗𝑜𝑒 𝑥 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔

     Face down on the bed, arms trembling and his chest ragged with breaths, Joe sneezes and his body shudders through his orgasm, legs quaking and threatening to become jelly. He would otherwise collapse if Ming's arm wasn't holding him around the waist, the younger male's body warm and firm against his elder's. His faen giggles a little in the face of Joe's little quirk, the gentle and soul-warming sound choking off into a harsh grunt as he reaches his own climax, body trembling against Joe's as his body's awash with pleasure. Joe laughs to himself as Ming falls onto the bed beside him, flat on his back with his eyes shut and his lips parted, sucking in almost desperate breaths, twitching on occasion.

     They make an interesting match, Joe knows. And not just for the fact that they've done this dance once before, in the life that Joe last lived. It's because they're so very different — both personality wise, and mentality wise. Joe is fully aware that his faen can be one hell of a complete and utter manipulative asshole when he wants to be or needs to be, which is definitely one hell of a red flag. But... He also knows that Ming has become a completely different person over the years that Joe was technically dead, and over the past year that Joe has been back walking around with Ming trailing after him like a lost puppy.

     Joe, however, also knows that he wouldn't have Ming any other way, because he very much fell in love with the asshole version of his rich ass boyfriend all those years ago. His death on the set of that international movie almost four years ago now made Ming realise the truth about a lot of things, and Joe absolutely loves the person that Ming has become since that horrible day in August. Sure, he definitely does wish that Ming hadn't of had to endure the trauma of losing someone he loved like that, but Joe does feel a little bit of bitter justification in his feelings for Ming having had his heart ripped out much like Joe did back then.

     It's a whole mess, Joe knows, but, at the very least, they have talked it all out before they fell back into bed together; before they had promised each other that there would be nobody else — the ghost of a memory or anything of the sort — sharing their bed. Joe has been a stand-in long enough, even having gone so far as to be a stand-in for himself.

     Without Ming's arms holding him up any longer, Joe's knees slide against the sheets and he fully drops onto their bed, shivering in the cool air in the aftermath of their activities. The sheet that they discarded earlier is pulled up by Ming's own shaky hands to cover their bodies, and Joe smiles sleepily at his faen, content to lie on their bed for a little while longer in spite of the slowly drying bodily fluids. He knows that their sheets are going to need a serious wash after tonight, because they've has put them off for almost a week due to the absolute downpour the entirety of Thailand has been enduring. He has, stupidly, only got two different sets of sheets, and, due to the rain, they're both soiled and gross.

     They'll simply have to improvise and hang the sheets up inside — maybe almost like a silly little fort? — and pray that the sheets will dry sooner rather than later. He hopes that they won't smell damp and a little bit gross, but, even if they do smell, he knows that that does smell better than dried bodily fluids.

     "What's got you so distracted?" Ming asks, his eyes open barely a slit but still firmly intent on Joe. He's used to such looks, because he knows that Ming fears Joe will disappear on him again. "Is something wrong, P'Joe?"

     Joe hums quietly, closing his eyes and nestling into the pillows. "Just thinking about washing the sheets soon. We'll have to hang them up inside if it keeps raining like this."

     "What, like a fort?" The amusement in Ming's voice makes Joe smile. "Do we need a new place for me to fuck your brains out? Are the bed, couch, shower, and tables not enough?"

     "Ai'Ming," Joe sleepily complains, borderland scandalized even after all the time that he's been around Ming's unfiltered brain to mouth thoughts, slapping his laughing boyfriend's pale arm. "I'm serious. We don't have any clean sheets left."

     "I can get Jim to bring us—"

     "In this weather? Absolutely not."

     Ming playfully pouts.

     "Plus, he's not even your secretary anymore. He's P'Mike's."

     Joe should really expect it when Ming flips Joe onto his back and traps him against the mattress, the sheet tangling between their bodies and Ming's weight comfortably sat atop Joe's lower stomach, but he's still blissed out and enjoying the afterglow. His breath pushes out of his lungs in a sharp gasp, body melting under Ming's familiar touch, but his mind remains sharp as Joe spots the sparkle of dark possessiveness within his lover's hooded eyes. The sight is far more familiar than the touch, and Joe swallows in anticipation, excitement coiling in his stomach because he knows what comes next. Joe has no reason to lie; to say that Ming's possessiveness is anything other than a massive turn-on for him, and he has learned how to use said possessiveness for his own gain, a little of his own manipulation.

     "That's right... Jim does belong to P'Mike now," Ming drawls slowly, eyes dark and daring, glittering with a different kind of amusement that makes Joe shiver. "But, I wonder... Who do you belong to, P'Joe?"

     Joe wants to play along with Ming, he really does, but... His refractory period isn't quite the same as Ming's anymore, even in his new body. "Ai'Ming..."

     "You belong to me. Right, P'Joe?"