The morning sunlight streamed through the large windows as soon as the heavy curtains were drawn back, bathing the room in a golden glow. The warmth of the light did little to match Daotok's mood, but he took a deep breath, stepping onto the balcony with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.
The cool morning air brushed against his skin, crisp and fresh, a stark contrast to the exhaustion lingering in his body. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the day, but it was necessary.
Today marked the start of his trip to the hometown of the guy next door. He had spent the night meticulously preparing everything, ensuring all the necessary documents were in order.
Last night, before bed, he had gone through his checklist one last time, double-checking every detail so he wouldn't forget anything. He had just started to drift off to sleep when a sudden notification pierced the quiet of his room. It was from a chat he had forgotten to mute.
The image on his screen made him pause—a man curled up on the ground, bruised and battered. A car tire was visible in the background, likely in a parking lot. A bar parking lot, if Daotok had to guess, knowing Arthit. The message that accompanied the image was brief.
[ARTHIT]: Taken care of.
At the time, Daotok had barely given it any thought, his exhaustion outweighing any curiosity. He had simply replied with a quick "thanks" before rolling over and going back to sleep. Now, in the quiet of the morning, he considered it again.
He doubted the guy next door had done it for him. It was probably just a drunken brawl, nothing more. There was no way he would go out of his way to stomp on someone for Daotok's sake.
Still, the sight of that picture was... satisfying. It's over. Finally, The story between them had come to an end. The night before, he had spent nearly an hour on a call with his friends, explaining everything. They had been concerned about him traveling abroad alone with Arthit.
Some had even offered to accompany him, but after consulting their seniors from med school, the response had been unanimous —no one interfered when it came to that man. Not even the upperclassmen dared to question him about this trip.
It was just as Daotok had suspected. Even now, with no choice but to take him along, Arthit wasn't thrilled about it. But it had to be done. Daotok knew how to take care of himself, but those around him weren't as convinced.
His father had warned him repeatedly not to wander off alone, urging him to stick close to his traveling companion. It was an understandable concern—Daotok had a bad habit of disappearing on solo adventures whenever he traveled.
He had even considered extending his trip for a couple of days, planning to explore on his own after handling his business. But his father had seen right through him and put a stop to that idea before it could take root.
No choice but to comply. Before he left, he had arranged for Typhoon to take care of Mr. Jeon. Typhoon had readily agreed, suggesting Daotok bring the cat over early so they could have breakfast together before heading to the airport.
It worked out well; Daotok preferred having extra time when traveling. Rushing made him anxious. He glanced at the clock. 7 A.M. With a final sip, he placed his empty coffee cup down, stepped inside, and pulled the curtains shut.
His bag was already packed, including all of Khun Jeon's necessities. He sent a quick message to the guy next door to let him know he was ready.
No response.
Not even read.
Daotok had no idea what time Arthit planned to leave, but their flight wasn't until the afternoon. Still, he needed to head out now to meet Typhoon. With a reluctant sigh, he walked over and knocked on the adjacent door.
Several knocks later, the door finally swung open to reveal a disheveled, half-asleep figure. Arthit stood shirtless, hair a mess, his expression irritated. The faint scent of alcohol lingered in the air between them.
"What do you want?" His voice was rough, hoarse from sleep.
"We're leaving."
"What time is it?"
"Seven."
"The flight's in the afternoon."
"I'm heading out now."
"Ridiculous," he muttered, already pushing the door shut.
Daotok quickly blocked it. "I'm meeting Meow."
"Meow?"
"P' Tonfah's boyfriend. I'm dropping by."
"To see Fah? Why?"
"To drop off my cat and have breakfast."
Arthit furrowed his brows, eyes narrowing. "Your cat? What kind of nonsense?"
"I'm leaving my cat with P' Tonfah's boyfriend."
"You already arranged this?"
"Yeah."
A heavy sigh. "Fine. Ten minutes."
The door closed, and Daotok returned to his own room to wait. If Arthit decided to meet him at the airport later, so be it. But traveling together was more convenient since he had the tickets.
A knock came sooner than expected. He grabbed his bags—a backpack, a rolling suitcase, and Mr. Jeon's carrier—before stepping out.
Arthit eyed the cat carrier. "What's with the cat?"
"I told you. I'm dropping him off."
"Oh, leaving him at Tonfah's place?"
"Yeah."
"What's his name again?"
"Khajonsak. But I call him Khun Jeon."
A raised eyebrow. "Khajonsak? That's a person's name."
"Yep."
With that, they made their way to the parking lot, loading up Daotok's bags before heading off. The drive was quick, and soon they arrived at a luxurious condo. Daotok had never been to Typhoon's place before, but thankfully, his companion knew the way.
When the door opened, Typhoon greeted them with a bright smile. "Come on in."
Daotok stepped inside, removing his shoes and setting Mr. Jeon free. The cat blinked up at Typhoon, wary but curious.
"Mr. Jeon~" Typhoon cooed, reaching out gently. The feline remained cautious but didn't resist. From the sofa, Tonfah called out, "What time's your flight?"
"This afternoon."
"Then why are you out so early?"
Arthit scoffed. "Staying here. Move over."
Daotok ignored him, focusing on Typhoon and Mr. Jeon. The cat seemed to be warming up slightly. Good.
"What about his supplies?" Typhoon asked.
"I brought everything." Daotok pointed at a large bag containing the cat's bed, litter box, food, and toys.
"Do I need to buy this exact food if it runs out?"
"Yeah."
Typhoon nodded. "Ready for breakfast?"
They gathered at the dining table. The home was pristine, spacious. The food spread before them looked delicious.
"Did you make all this?" Daotok asked.
"P' Tonfah helped."
"Not much, though," Tonfah added. "Typhoon did most of the work."
Daotok took a bite. The flavors were rich, comforting.
"How is it?" Typhoon asked eagerly.
"It's good."
Typhoon grinned. "Then eat up! You've got that stomach issue to take care of."
Daotok said nothing but continued eating. It wasn't his favorite topic, but at least for now, he was being taken care of.
~~~~
Arthit lounged on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, waiting for the afternoon flight. The only reason he was up this early was thanks to the persistent knocking from the kid next door.
The little troublemaker had insisted on having breakfast at Tonfah's place and dropping off his cat before they left. Still, free food was free food, even if it came at the cost of an early wake-up call.
"Where are you headed again?" Tonfah asked from his spot on the adjacent couch, his gaze still half-focused on the TV screen.
"Hawaii, LA, San Francisco," Arthit replied, rubbing his temples. "Hawaii for the vacation house, LA for the hospital where my mom stayed, and San Francisco for my place."
"Sounds exhausting. How many days?"
"Booked five. If that's not enough, I'll extend, but it should be fine. A day to fly from Thailand to Hawaii, six hours from there to LA, and another two to San Francisco. I'm not going for sightseeing, just checking on things and heading back."
Tonfah nodded, then turned to him with a pointed look. "Make sure to take care of your Nong."
"Me? Take care of him?" Arthit scoffed, his brows furrowing.
Tonfah didn't look amused. "Thit, you're the one who asked for his help. Didn't I hear that whatever you asked him to do has been taking a toll on him? Typhoon said dealing with spirits or whatever drains him."
Arthit fell silent, thinking back. He had never seen the kid complain. Maybe he grumbled internally, but outwardly, he was always the same—quiet, calm, borderline robotic. Always responding with a monotonous, "Yeah" or "No."
"No, he hasn't," Arthit admitted, a hint of guilt creeping in.
"And that whole deal you made about being his 'guard dog'? What you're offering isn't nearly worth it," Tonfah continued. "So take care of him."
Arthit sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." Maybe the kid was just naturally kind, or maybe he had his own reasons. Either way, Arthit was grateful, even if he didn't always say it aloud.
Wanting to change the subject, he asked, "What do you even do on your days off?"
Tonfah glanced at him, unimpressed. "Read books."
Arthit groaned. "Seriously? Don't you do anything else?"
"I watch movies and cuddle with Typhoon."
"Fair enough," he muttered, conceding defeat.
"Speaking of, what about your snake?" Tonfah asked, finally shifting away from the topic of his Nong.
"I left it with a friend."
"Which friend?"
"Someone you don't know."
At first, Arthit had considered leaving it with Johan since North had mentioned wanting to play with a snake. But then he realized Johan might eat it or something.
"Eat it? Isn't that a bit much?" Tonfah raised a skeptical eyebrow.
"Knowing Joe? Anything's possible. And honestly, I was more worried my snake might bite North by mistake. It's not venomous, but if it bit him, his boyfriend might crush it in anger—or worse, cook it out of spite."
Tonfah chuckled, shaking his head. "And Hill?"
"Not happening. He's fine with a cat, but a snake? He'd kick me out before taking care of it."
The conversation drifted after that, until Tonfah brought up something else.
"By the way, how did it go with the kid's ex?"
Arthit scoffed. "That guy's a piece of work. The kid might seem calm, but his words hit like a hammer. Completely destroyed the bastard."
"He told me about it. I advised him not to go back," Tonfah said. "And that was it?"
"I had drinks with him after."
"With Kram?" Tonfah's expression turned incredulous. "You're as reckless as ever."
"Not really. But on the way out, he pissed on my car tire, so I beat the crap out of him."
Tonfah burst out laughing. "You actually beat him up?"
"Yeah. He's in the hospital now. I called my dad to send someone to swap out the car, and they took him there too. Didn't hold back."
Tonfah shook his head with a sigh. "Can't say I feel sorry for him. Peeing on a car tire? That's just disgusting."
"Right?! Just thinking about it pisses me off again."
Eventually, Arthit dozed off on Tonfah's sofa, only waking when a hand shook him gently.
"Thit, it's time."
He groggily opened his eyes, seeing Tonfah standing behind the couch.
Daotok—his unexpected travel companion—stood nearby, waiting quietly.
Arthit stretched before heading for the door.
"Safe flight," Tonfah called out.
"Yeah," Arthit muttered, watching as the kid exchanged a few quiet words with Typhoon before they finally left.
The car ride to the airport was quiet, the only sound being the soft music playing through the speakers. Unlike before, neither of them spoke.
"Hey," Arthit finally said.
No response. Daotok just stared out the window, lost in thought.
"What's your name again?" Arthit asked, realizing he had completely forgotten. Calling him "the blue-haired kid" or "the guy next door" wouldn't work since they'd be stuck together for days.
"Daotok."
"Huh?" Arthit frowned. No wonder he hadn't remembered. "That's a weird name."
"Yeah."
Arthit glanced at him before looking back at the road. "Thanks."
Daotok turned his head slightly, eyebrows raised.
"For helping," Arthit clarified. He wasn't heartless. He knew the kid had gone out of his way, sacrificing his time and energy for something that might not even yield results.
"It's fine," Daotok replied in his usual, slow manner.
As they hit a red light, Arthit noticed Daotok glancing at him. He turned to meet his gaze. "What?"
"Nothing... You're just driving slower."
Arthit blinked. He hadn't even realized. With a sigh, he pressed the gas pedal as the light turned green.
At the airport, Direk had booked them first-class seats. Arthit slumped into his, while Daotok pulled out a mystery novel. Normally, Arthit would sleep, but his mind was too restless. After half an hour, he peeked at Daotok's book.
"Hey," he called.
"Hmm?"
"Got another book?"
Without looking up, Daotok pulled another novel from his bag and handed it over. Arthit flipped through the pages before pausing. "Got another pair of headphones?"
"Nope."
"Can I borrow one side of yours?"
"No."
"Come on, share."
A long pause. Then, with a sigh, Daotok handed him one side of his earbuds. Arthit took it, listening to whatever was playing. It was... decent.
"Why is this playlist so all over the place?" he asked when a calm song abruptly switched to rock.
"Switched playlists."
"You like all kinds of music?"
"If it sounds good, I listen."
Arthit smirked. "Fair enough. Share it with me sometime."
"Which one?"
"All of them."
Daotok shrugged. "Sure."
Arthit glanced at his watch, realizing nearly two hours had passed since they boarded the flight. The time had slipped by unnoticed as he devoured the pages of the novel in his hands.
With a final turn of the page, he exhaled softly and set the book aside, its story still lingering in his mind. Across from him, Daotok had already moved on to something else—a sketchpad balanced on his lap, pencil moving in swift, confident strokes.
Curious, Arthit reached for the very book the other had just set down, flipping through its pages absentmindedly. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of the sketch in progress. The steady scratch of graphite against paper piqued his interest until his curiosity got the better of him.
"What are you drawing?" he asked, voice laced with intrigue.
Without pausing, Daotok responded, "A scene from the novel."
Arthit's brow lifted slightly. "Oh, is it the cornfield scene?"
"Yeah. Just like I imagined it."
Leaning in slightly, Arthit studied the drawing with growing admiration. He had just finished that part of the book himself, and somehow, the image in his mind mirrored what was being brought to life on the page. It was as if the artist was illustrating the story in real time.
"Hey, try drawing the cave scene—the one where the protagonist escapes. I couldn't really picture it that well."
"Alright," came the easy reply as a fresh page was turned. The pencil moved quickly, sketching a rough outline before gradually refining the details. Arthit watched, fascinated by the speed and precision of each stroke.
"Man, your drawing's amazing," he admitted, unable to hide his admiration.
Daotok shrugged, barely looking up. "I take commissions."
Arthit scoffed lightly. "What, pitching your services now?"
"A little."
"You actually take art commissions?"
"I do everything."
Arthit smirked. "Not picky about jobs, huh?"
Their conversation flowed easily, and Arthit found himself feeling more at ease. He had a knack for getting along with people, and this was no exception. Even with North, despite his rough personality, they'd hit it off quickly. And Kram? They'd just met and were already out drinking together.
Must've been a natural talent of his—good looks and great social skills. Johan was the same way. No one needed to tell the guy he was handsome; he probably knew it the moment he was born. Hell, maybe even as a sperm.
He leaned back in his seat, feeling lighter than he had earlier. The nerves from the airport had faded, and if he had a drink and a cigarette right now, he'd feel completely normal. Too bad neither was an option at 30,000 feet.
"Hey," Daotok spoke up again, snapping Arthit out of his thoughts.
"What?"
"You've dissected a cadaver before, right?"
Arthit blinked at the unexpected question. "Yeah, why?"
Daotok turned his sketchpad toward him. "Does this look realistic?"
Arthit raised an eyebrow at the detailed anatomical drawing staring back at him. He studied it for a moment before glancing up. "Why not just look it up?"
"I'd rather ask someone who's seen it firsthand."
He scrutinized the drawing again before giving a nod of approval. "It's accurate enough."
"If there's a dissection class going on, can I come watch?"
"Ask the professor," Arthit replied, turning his attention back to the book in his hands. He still couldn't believe he was reading fiction—it wasn't something he usually did. But this novel had hooked him.
The protagonist was so damn cool he almost wanted to be an FBI agent himself.
"Does this have a sequel?" he asked, flipping through the pages.
"It's a series," Daotok replied.
Arthit perked up. "With the same protagonist?"
"Yeah."
"Really? That's awesome. How many books?"
"Three are translated into Thai."
"And the others?"
"Not yet."
"Man, I want to read more."
"They don't have them in Thailand anymore."
"You'll definitely find them at a bookstore in LA."
Arthit's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"They have to, right?"
"Can we go, then?"
Daotok smirked. "If we have time. I'd like to read more too."
Arthit leaned back, satisfied. "Alright."